Shepherd - Anaïs Mitchell

Said the shepherd to his wife:

«The crop of hay is cut and dried

I’ll bale it up and bring it in

Before the coming storm begins»

«Go», she said, «And beat the storm

And then there is another chore

Today the baby will be born

You’ll take me to the hospital»

Said the shepherd, «If it’s true

'Twere better if I stayed with you

I’d rather let the harvest go

And hasten to the hospital»

«Nay», she told him, «I'll be fine

We both have laboring to do

You do yours and I’ll do mine

And the babe will wait till the work is through»

The shepherd rode the yellow rows

The clouds above and the fields below

Until the bales had all been tied

Then homeward turned to find his wife

The sweat was wet upon her brow

Her breath it cameth laboredly

And then the rain was coming down

Upon the fields of yellow hay

Said the shepherd, «It's no use

The rain will surely win the race

'Twere better if we let it fall

And hurry to the hospital»

«Go», she said, «And work with haste

And bring the bales into the barn

Else the crop will go to waste

And the babe will wait till the work is done»

The shepherd drove into the storm

And to and from the yellow barn

Till half the bales were safely in

Then went to find his wife again

How many times her name he called

And no replying would she make

Her breath it cameth not at all

She would not rise from where she lay

The storm was o’er within the hour

The shepherd saw the sun come out

The shepherd’s wife saw ne’er again

He buried her and the babe within

He turned the seed into the ground

He brought the flock to feed thereon

He held the cleaver and the plow

And the shepherd’s work was never done