The Bleating of the Sheep
Lo, I listened to the bleating of the sheep
Squatters' sheep
And I sat me down and pondered long and deep.
And a cloud of gloom came o'er me
At the empty leagues before me
Yea, I marked the virgin grass-lands' mighty sweep
Land that called for cultivation;
Cried aloud for population
Land that carried trees and fences, grass and sheep.
0, I listened to their bleating on the plain
Virgin plain
And I spoke to them with epithets profane.
In the valley, on the hill,
Yet were sheep, and more sheep still.
(Which annoyed me very much, I must explain.
For one sheep may he a blessing,
But a million are depressing.)
And I cursed them, but I knew I cursed in vain.
Lo! and then I fell a-dreaming where I sat
Sadly sat
Till I didn't see what I was looking at.
And my dream was most alluring.
Ah ! But, had it been enduring,
What a reckoning it would have been for Fat!
What a blessing for Australia
If my dream - but inter alia,
I'll explain to you what I am driving at.
Lo! (excuse this weird redundancy of 'lo,'
Soulful 'lo';
But I want to be impressive, you must know).
Lo! instead of jumbucks bleating,
I could hear the reaper's beating;
And I saw abundant milk and honey flow.
I espied snug homesteads dotted
O'er the plain. I also spotted
Towns, with factories and workshops, rise and grow.
Ay, at busy line of commerce filled the place
Desert place
And mine eyes beheld a happy populace
Wresting from the land its treasure
Loving work and earning leisure.
Industry and population grew apace.
I could hear the hammers ringing;
Happy housewives blithely singing;
And I read Prosperity in every face.
Then I saw a file of troops go marching past
Bravely past.
Adown the plain I heard the bugle's blast.
I beheld the banners streaming,
And I fancied in my dreaming
That our happy country owned an army vast.
As each patriot marched proudly
By, he cried, exulting loudly,
'Fair Australia is safely ours at last!'
Then a large, red man rode up upon a horse,
(Large roan horse),
And spoke to me in strident tones and coarse.
And his discourse was (diluted)
'Wanderers are prosecuted
On this crimson run. Now get!' I got - of course.
As I've said, the man was bulky,
And he seemed morose and sulky;
And it just occurred to me he might use force.
But, in spite of him, my dream I still may keep
Fondly keep.
And from out it sprouts the wisdom that I reap
For the benefit of all men,
But especially of little men.
(Meaning men whose wealth does not exceed one heap.)
Ay, the lesson is before you
Pray forgive me if I bore you;
But, my brothers, heed the lesson of the sheep!
For, hark ye, hear the bleating of the sheep
Human sheep!
(O, my brothers, but their sheephood makes me weep!)
Mark ye, how they flock togeth
After some old, sly bell-wether
One that Fat finds it convenient to keep;
Watch them how they follow, follow.
See the verbal weeds they swallow,
And the squatter keeps his grass for paying sheep.
O, the squatter has of woolly sheep a lot
Quite a lot;
But they're not the only sort of sheep he's got.
How he profits by their fleeces
And, when price of meat decreases
Human meat - the butcher, Fat, will take the lot.
O, ye farmers and selectors!
Landless voters! Free electors!
Think, my brothers: are ye sheep, or are ye not?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Sheep
Sometimes I get so angry with the simple life they lead
The shepherds smile seems to confirm my fears
Theyve never questioned anything, theyve never disagreed
Sometimes I think they must have wool in their ears
And when you see a can I see a crook
And when you see a crowd I see a flock
Its sheep were up against
Sheep were up against
When I was young they used to get me counting sheep
But the counting I did was all in vain
No when Im tired and Im trying to get to sleep
I count humans jumping onto trains
And when you see a can I see a crook
And when you see a crowd I see a flock
Its sheep were up against
Sheep were up against
[influential guitar break]
And when you see a can I see a crook
And when you see a crowd I see a flock
Its sheep were up against
Sheep were up against
song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In a distant land many years ago, there lived a black sheep. It was executed by firing squad. A century later, the grieving flock erected an equestrian statue in honor of the slain sheep that looked very nice in the park. In the years that followed, every time a black sheep appeared, it was executed so that ordinary sheep could practice sculpture.
Augusto Monterroso in The Black Sheep and Other Fables (1969)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy!
Mr. Sheep
Golly, mister, where you going? you'll be late for work careful or you'll drop your briefcase jesus, what a jerk there he goes down to the subway off to catch the train too bad for him he forgot
Umbrella poor mr. sheep you're wet mr. sheep walk on, mr. sheep walk on tell me, how's your little family? how's your little wife? are you going to live with these monsters for the rest of your
Maybe you got a little girlfriend stashed somewhere in town may be you ain't got a little girlfriend ha ha ha ha ha poor mr. sheep he's a lonely guy too walk on mr. sheep walk on dance, mister!
He's doin' ok oh, oh oh, he's all right let him get up by himself now i don't want to be too rough and i don't want to be too mean you're right - this world is awful tough i know exactly what y
An but i want you to know exactly how i feel and to tell you the truth right now i feel like going i feel like going baa baa mr. sheep careful, you're walking all over your own self now walk on,
Sheep walk on, mr. sheep walk
On, mr. sheep walk on
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Sheep
The Sheep adorns the landscape rural
And is both singular and plural—
It gives grammarians the creeps
To hear one say, 'A flock of sheeps.'
The Sheep is gentle, meek and mild,
And led in herds by man or child—
Being less savage than the rabbit,
Sheep are gregarious by habit.
The Sheep grows wool and thus promotes
The making of vests, pants and coats—
Vests, pants and coats and woolen cloths
Provide good food for hungry moths.
With vegetables added to
The Sheep, we get our mutton stew—
Experiments long since revealed
The Sheep should first be killed and peeled.
Thus, with our debt to them so deep,
All men should cry 'Praise be for Sheep!'—
And, if we happen to be shepherds,
'Praise be they’re not as fierce as leopards!'
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Shepherd's Dream
A silly shepherd lately sat
Among a flock of sheep;
Where musing long on this and that,
At last he fell asleep.
And in the slumber as he lay,
He gave a piteous groan;
He thought his sheep were run away,
And he was left alone.
He whoop'd, he whistled, and he call'd,
But not a sheep came near him;
Which made the shepherd sore appall'd
To see that none would hear him.
But as the swain amazèd stood,
In this most solemn vein,
Came Phyllida forth of the wood,
And stood before the swain.
Whom when the shepherd did behold
He straight began to weep,
And at the heart he grew a-cold,
To think upon his sheep.
For well he knew, where came the queen,
The shepherd durst not stay:
And where that he durst not be seen,
The sheep must needs away.
To ask her if she saw his flock,
Might happen patience move,
And have an answer with a mock,
That such demanders prove.
Yet for because he saw her come
Alone out of the wood,
He thought he would not stand as dumb,
When speech might do him good;
And therefore falling on his knees,
To ask but for his sheep,
He did awake, and so did leese
The honour of his sleep.
poem by Nicholas Breton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Society of Grazing Sheep
The herd meanders, searching for the green
Pastures that hide past distant mountaintops.
They're a society of grazing sheep.
The herd looks down, ignoring what they've seen.
They're too busy chewing grass to stop.
They're a society of grazing sheep.
The herd wanders only to convene
In the pursuit of inhaling more crops.
They're a society of grazing sheep.
They don't yet realize that hungry eyes
Guide them—that wolves are hiding in disguise.
They're a society of grazing sheep.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Shepherd
The shepherd goads his sheep by staff,
And leads them on to pastures green,
Instructing them to watch for wolves
That come in sheep-skin, in their midst!
The shepherd knows each sheep by name,
And calls them sweetly when they stray,
Or when they near the ledge atop
A valley deep or hill-side steep!
The sheep too know their shepherd's call,
And graze on meadows, keeping near;
They know he is their protector,
And will save them at any cost!
How safe it is when shepherd's near!
No sheep can ever lose its way;
The shepherd takes care of the flock,
But cannot bear to see one, lost!
Dedicated to Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius, Parish Priest,
Holy Family Church, Perundurai, by his beloved parishioners
Copyright by Dr John Celes 31-05-2012
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sheeple
They follow each other like sheep
Maybe because of coloring, or with their own they keep
Not knowing where they are going so they just follow
One after another, up the road or in a hollow,
They all are weak and meek and so easily led
Sadly like sheep they know not of the dangers up ahead,
So they follow and follow as that is their norm
To follow in the mainstream and to their own they conform
They are led by their shepherd wherever that he might go
And they believe what he believes, but they know not what he does know.
They do their following without thought or thinking
They are acquiesce, without remorse or blinking
Thinking themselves not as individuals, but only as a group
All they seek is one to follow, someone to lead their troop
Following because of others or because they are adherent or devout
To the belief of someone else and even the lies from their mouth
They are told what to see and what they know and what to do
Sadly in their life and other matters they do not have a clue
These followers are unimaginative, submissive people
They are brothers to the sheep, known only as sheeple.
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Good Shepherd
The ninety and nine safely in the fold lay
But this one sheep had foolishly gone astray
And as he lay bleating all lost and afraid
The Good Shepherd heard his cry and came to his aid.
All through the wilderness the Good Shepherd went
To seek and save the lost sheep was His intent
Fierce ravening wolves pursued Him all the way
and the thorns tore His flesh throughout that day.
All through the night he toiled and did not sleep
For he was determined to rescue and save His lost sheep
Even though in Gethsemane drops of blood He sweat
He would not be dissuaded from the pathway set.
Then when He came to Golgotha's steep Hill
He did not hesitate but He carried on still
Onward and upward He went to be crucified
And there on the cross for His sheep He died.
Stricken and smitten of God was He
And by His stripes I have been set free
The price of my sins by His blood he paid
And all my iniquity upon Him was laid.
The Bulls of Bashan tore at His side
And the gates of Hell were opened wide
He entered Death and Hades to pay the price
Offering His body as the perfect sacrifice.
Deep wounds in His hands and feet he bore
Head torn by the crown of thorns He wore
Alone He suffered Thirsty and bleeding
As there for His sheep He was interceding.
Lesser shepherds and hireling would have fled
But He stood firm and for His sheep He bled
Enduring such suffering in order to save
This poor lost sheep from Hell and the grave.
He lifted me out of the miry clay
and upon His shoulders I gently lay
all through the vale of death to heaven
Bringing me into the security of the pen.
Written after reading John 10: 11-15—11
Sonnet: Lord Jesus Christ - the Good Shepherd
Christ Jesus Lord is Good Shepherd - the one,
Who is ready to sacrifice His life,
For sake of sheep He leads, and He is Son
Of God, Redeemer and saves all from strife!
Christ gave His life upon the cross for all,
And shed His blood as price for mankind's sins,
So that the penitent can hear God's call,
And enter heaven with pure soul and wins.
The Good Shepherd has other sheep to lead,
For they too heed His call and follow Him;
For all His sheep in flock one, need to feed,
Returning safely when the light turns dim!
Christ is the owner of the flock of sheep;
With Good Shepherd around, no wolves dare peep!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 28-04-2012
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Today... 'The Good Shepherd
The ninety and nine safely in the fold lay
But this one sheep had foolishly gone astray
And as he lay bleating all lost and afraid
The Good Shepherd heard his cry and came to his aid
All through the wilderness the Good Shepherd went
To seek and save the lost sheep was His intent
Fierce ravening wolves pursued Him all the way
and the thorns tore His flesh throughout that day.
All through the night he toiled and did not sleep
For he was determined to rescue and save His lost sheep
Even though in Gethsemane drops of blood He sweat
He would not be dissuaded from the pathway set
And when He came to Golgotha's steep Hill
He did not hesitate but He carried on still
Onward and upward He went to be crucified
And there on the cross for His sheep He died
Stricken and smitten of God was He
And by His stripes I have been set free
The price of my sins by His blood he paid
And all my iniquity upon Him was laid
The Bulls of Bashan tore at His side
And the gates of death were opened wide
He entered Death and Hades to pay the price
Offering His body as the perfect sacrifice
Deep wounds in His hands and feet he bore
Head torn by the crown of thorns He wore
Alone He suffered Thirsty and bleeding
As there for His sheep He was interceding
Lesser shepherds and hireling would have fled
But He stood firm and for His sheep He bled
Enduring such suffering in order to save
This poor lost sheep from Hell and the grave
He lifted me out of the miry clay
as upon His shoulders I gently lay
Brought me into the security of the pen
all through the vale of death to heaven.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
The Shepard
The kind, loving shepherd
Takes his hand, with the shears
And shaves his flock of sheep
One by one, fleecing them.
Gently, he makes the wool
To cover his raw skin,
Insulating his body
When the cold weather comes.
The sheep sleep in the snow,
Resting beside the fire.
The shepherd heats the pit,
Throwing wood on the pyre.
He cares for them, their needs;
He feeds them, gives water.
He tends to their living,
Paving their survival.
Then, late in ev'ry week,
When he becomes hungry,
He takes a soft sheep back
And slaughters it. Alone.
The other sheep do not know,
So, still, they will follow
Their generous master,
The kind, loving shepherd.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sheep
From where I stand the sheep stand still
As stones against the stony hill.
The stones are gray
And so are they.
And both are weatherworn and round,
Leading the eye back to the ground.
Two mingled flocks -
The sheep, the rocks.
And still no sheep stirs from its place
Or lifts its Babylonian face.
poem by Robert Francis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet: God's Warning to Shepherds!
‘My sheep lie scattered and not tended well.
I'll find new shepherds who will do this job;
To ones who failed their duty, ‘twill be hell;
From me, my sheep, no one can ever rob! '
‘Disaster to shepherds who don't take care
Of my loved sheep, who leave my pastures green;
I'll get new shepherds, fearless and will dare,
Preventing sheep, from getting lost from scene! '
‘In prophets, priests, now Godlessness prevails;
They do not preach to people what's God-say;
They tell own versions and their made-up tales,
Deluding people, leading sheep astray! '
‘So, prophesy what comes from Yahweh's mouth.'
The Lord declares, ‘Just speak the Gospel's truth! '
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Upon the Road to Rockabout
Upon the road to Rockabout
I came upon some sheep -
A large and woolly flock about
As wide as it was deep.
I was about to turn about
To ask the man to tell
Some things I wished to learn about
Both sheep and wool as well,
When I beheld a rouseabout
Who lay upon his back
Beside a little house about
A furlong from the track.
I had a lot to talk about,
And said to him "Good day."
But he got up to walk about,
And so I went away -
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Ballad of the Black-Sheep
A black-sheep, from England, who worked on the run –
Riding where the stockmen ride –
He sat by the hut when the day’s work was done –
Lone huts where the black sheep bide.
“I’m tired of my life!” to his lone self said he,
“My girl and my country are both done with me!”
“I’m tired of my life!” to the wide scrubs said he –
“My girl and my country are long done with me!”
He took from a packet a portrait and curl –
Such things as the exiles keep –
And sadly he gazed at the face of the girl –
Lost girl of a lost black-sheep.
“I’ll go where there’s fighting and die there!” said he;
“My girl and my country are well rid of me.
“I’ll go where there’s fighting and die there,” said he;
“For heart-break and country that’s well rid of me!”
He rode with a thousand, he rode with the best –
Riding as bushmen ride –
Who’d ridden alone on the wastes of the West –
Wide wastes where the drought-fiends bide,
They rode as they’d ride to an up-country ball,
And the laugh of the black-sheep was lightest of all!
The road was a shambles, the hill was a hell –
Red rosed where the reckless ride –
And he with the foremost lay torn by a shell –
(Die hard where your father died!)
“the death of a rebel!” he laughed as he groaned –
“for the land that adoptee – the land that disowned!”
the death of a black-sheep! – they laugh as they groan –
for the lands that adopt and the lands that disown!
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Oxfam Stands For Killing Oxen Causes Famine
Oxfam like Heifer International
is distributing animal flesh
to third world countries,
thereby causing animal agony,
spreading human death and disease,
enabling deforesting and continued
global heating, wasting energy.
Oxfam means.... killing oxen causes
famine.
*********
I WILL NOT SAIL WITH SHEEP
- W. H. Davies - (1870 to 1940)
When I was once in Baltimore
A man came up to me and cried
‘Come, I have eighteen hundred sheep,
And we sail on Tuesday’s tide.'
‘If you will sail with me, young man,
I'll pay you fifty shillings down.
These eighteen hundred sheep I take
From Baltimore to Glasgow town.’
He paid me fifty shillings down.
I sailed with eighteen hundred sheep;
We soon had cleared the harbour’s mouth,
We soon were in the salt sea deep.
The first night we were out at sea.
Those sheep were quiet in their mind.
The second night they cried with fear –
They smelt no pastures in the wind.
They sniffed, poor things, for their green fields.
They cried so loud I could not sleep:
For fifty thousand shillings down
I would not sail again with sheep.
poem by O. Anna Niemus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Wildy Ones
The sheep are in the silver wood,
The cows are in the broom;
The goats are in the wild mountain
And won't be home by noon.
My mother sang that olden tune
Most every night,
And to her newest she would croon
By candle light;
While cuddling in the velvet gloom
I'd dream of cows
That sought each dawn 'mid golden broom
To gently browse.
Or I would glimpse the silver wood,
The birchen glade,
Where pearly sheep in quiet mood
Cropped unafraid;
But how I loved in lapsing drowse
The mountain wild!
The goats were more than sheep and cows
To one wee child.
For cows and sheep are shelter-wise,
And love the lea;
While goats have starlight in their eyes,
In cragland free . . .
And now on edge of endless sleep
Wryly I note
How less I'm kin to kine and sheep
Than rebel goat!
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet: The Flocks Need More Shepherds
Shepherds are turning scarcer, day by day!
Fragmented flocks have lesser sheep in fold;
With many lost, many sheep go astray;
Devils on rampage trouble, young and old.
Meadows have lesser grass that's succulent;
More sheep want better grass, water to drink;
The climes these days are turning turbulent;
The few shepherds are old-aged, on death's brink!
Shepherdless stay some flocks for many days;
They do not know the shepherd or his call!
The shepherd does not know his sheep by face;
From wolves' attack, there is no staff to stall!
Yet, God will find the shepherds in strange ways;
All righteous find their way through earthly maze!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 15-07-12
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Likeness
When I came forth this morn I saw
Quite twenty cloudlets in the air;
And then I saw a flock of sheep,
Which told me how these clouds came there.
That flock of sheep, on that green grass,
Well might it lie so still and proud!
Its likeness had been drawn in heaven,
On a blue sky, in silvery cloud.
I gazed me up, I gazed me down,
And swore, though good the likeness was,
'Twas a long way from justice done
To such white wool, such sparkling grass.
poem by William Henry Davies
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!