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
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Related quotes
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
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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
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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
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Songs Set To Music: 27.
Haste, my Nannette,
My lovely maid,
Haste to the bower
Thy swain has made.
For thee alone
I made the bower,
And strew'd the couch
With many a flower.
None but my sheep
Shall near us come;
Venus be praised
My sheep are dumb.
Great god of love
Take thou my crook,
To keep the wolf
From Nannette's flock.
Guard thou the sheep
To her so dear;
My own, alas!
Are less my care.
But of the wolf
If thou'rt afraid,
Come not to us
To call for aid;
For with her swain
My love shall stay,
Though the wolf stroll
And the sheep stray.
poem by Matthew Prior
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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
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Sonnet: The Good Shepherd Protects All His Sheep
From everything unholy satan does,
The Master of the creation, God will
Find out the ways to protect His righteous
From all effects that are adverse and ill!
For, God is our Care-taker, Good Shepherd,
And won't allow the wolf to steal his sheep,
Who listen to His call and every word,
And protect them from falling down the deep.
The sheep will know the wolf in lamb-skin fast,
And run for cover to the shepherd near,
Who with his wisdom of the present, past,
Instills self-confidence, removes all fear!
The Good Shepherd knows every sheep by name,
And knows the wolf's designs and every game!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 23-07-12
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Good Shepherd’s Love
One sheep amongst the hundred, if gets lost,
The Good Shepherd begins to search for it,
Returning when ’tis found at any cost –
Lamb gets His shoulders upon which to sit!
God seeks and saves the lamb that’s gone astray!
He will not rest until lost one is found;
He leaves the ninety-nine behind that day;
He leads them on to newer grazing-ground.
What love, the Shepherd’s heart bears for His sheep!
He tends to every lamb with equal care;
Yet, some decide to take the plunge down steep,
And meet their death, despite His warnings bare.
The Good Shepherd will not forsake one sheep!
No wolves in sheep-skin dare to come or creep.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-7-2008
poem by John Celes
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. John (Chapter 10)
Then Jesus said, ‘Amen, I say!
Whoev’r enters not through the gates,
But climbs the fence of the sheep-fold,
Is thief or robber doubtlessly! ’
‘Whoever enters through the gate,
Is but the shepherd of the sheep;
The watch-man opens gates for him
He calls his sheep, each one by name.
And leads them out, till last comes out,
And walks ahead while follow sheep,
Because they recognize his voice;
But they will follow not strangers;
They will not heed the different voice’
None could understand what He told;
So, Jesus said, ‘Amen again,
I am the gate for all the sheep;
All those who came before were thieves;
My sheep did not listen to them.’
‘I am the gate for sheep’s entry!
Whoever enters me, I’ll save
They come in, go out to pastures;
A thief enters only to steal;
He also comes to destroy, kill;
I came so that all may find life,
And have it in abundance too.’
‘I am the Good shepherd to all;
Good shepherd gives his life for sheep;
If hired man and sheep not own,
He leaves them to the wolf’s mercy,
Which catches them and scatters all.
This is because, he works for pay,
And has no true concern for sheep! ’
‘I am the Good Shepherd, Jesus;
I know my sheep, they know me too;
Just as my Father knows me well,
I’ll lay my life down for my sheep;
But other sheep are there as well;
They do not belong to this fold;
These sheep also, I ought to lead,
Until they recognize my voice;
And there be one flock, one shepherd! ’
‘My Father loves me for this cause:
My life I’ll lay for Him because;
No one else can take it from me;
I’ll lay it on my very own;
I’m empowered to die, arise!
A command that my Father gave.’
Again there was chaos ’midst Jews;
Some said, ‘He seems to be possessed;
While others said, ‘These aren’t words
Of someone who’s possessed because
A demon does not open eyes,
Of persons blind surely, truly.’
The Feast of Dedication came;
By then, the cold winter set in.
Then Jesus walked in temple place,
On portico of Solomon;
Some Jews surrounded Him and asked,
‘How long you keep us in suspense?
Just tell us if you’re Messiah? ’
So, Jesus answered them and said,
‘I told you but you don’t believe;
My works I do in Father’s name,
And so they testify to me.
You don’t believe for you are not
Among the sheep, I shepherd now.’
‘My sheep all hear my voice and come,
To follow me, to where I go.
They are given eternal life,
And so they shall never perish.
None can take them off my hand; .
My Father is greater than all;
And none dare take them off His hand.
My father and I are but one.’
The Jews again took rocks to throw.
Then Jesus said, ‘I’ve shown good works:
For these, you want to stone me then? ’
The Jews answered Jesus and said,
‘We’ll not stone you for your good works,
But you’ve committed blasphemy:
You make yourself equal to God? ’
Then Jesus said, ‘Is it not writ
In book of laws that you are gods? ’
‘If they are gods for who came word,
The scripture can’t be set aside.’
‘Can you call me, bless’d by Father,
One who blasphemes because I said:
‘I am the Son of God, Father! ’
If you can’t do my Father’s works,
You need not try to believe me.
But if I do, despite the fact
You don’t believe, believe the works;
So that, you understand the fact,
The Father’s in me, I in Him! ’
They tried arresting him again
But he escaped from their power.
He went across river Jordan,
To where John baptized Him at first,
Remaining there for quite sometime.
And many came to Him and said,
‘John then performed no sign like you,
But everything he said comes true! ’
So, many did believe in Him.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-23-2007
poem by John Celes
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The shepherd drives the wolf from the sheep's for which the sheep thanks the shepherd as his liberator, while the wolf denounces him for the same act as the destroyer of liberty. Plainly, the sheep and the wolf are not agreed upon a definition of liberty.
quote by Abraham Lincoln
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sheep
'Sheep! why don't you follow me? '
Shouted the Shepherd to his flock of three
Where I lead you, you are supposed to follow
In the desert, through the forest, or in a hollow,
I will never, ever deliberately steered you wrong
If only you will listen to me and follow me along
Your safety and happiness is my main concern
So the path we take is from the one I did learn,
With my staff in hand I will lead the way
And I hope from me that you will never stray
As there is so much danger in this world of ours
So for your safety and from my leadership, I am in charge,
'I am your shepherd and you are my flock! '
Screamed the Shepherd as he then got lost
I have taken a different road than what I've taken before
Even though against this road I had cursed and swore,
But I thought the road was safer and easier to take
You must believe my thinking, I made no mistake
This time though I had listen to the advice of others
But now I see the mistake, if only I had my druthers,
Trust in me again, and we will find the correct path
And please forgive my directions and my earlier wrath
Lets just finish our journey and do not lose faith in me
Spoke the Shepherd, to his sheep of three.
poem by Randy McClave
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Too many leaders act as if the sheep... their people... are there for the benefit of the shepherd, not that the shepherd has responsibility for the sheep.
quote by Ken Blanchard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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The singing in god's acre
Out yonder in the moonlight, wherein God's Acre lies,
Go angels walking to and fro, singing their lullabies.
Their radiant wings are folded, and their eyes are bended low,
As they sing among the beds whereon the flowers delight to grow,--
"Sleep, oh, sleep!
The Shepherd guardeth His sheep.
Fast speedeth the night away,
Soon cometh the glorious day;
Sleep, weary ones, while ye may,
Sleep, oh, sleep!"
The flowers within God's Acre see that fair and wondrous sight,
And hear the angels singing to the sleepers through the night;
And, lo! throughout the hours of day those gentle flowers prolong
The music of the angels in that tender slumber-song,--
"Sleep, oh, sleep!
The Shepherd loveth His sheep.
He that guardeth His flock the best
Hath folded them to His loving breast;
So sleep ye now, and take your rest,--
Sleep, oh, sleep!"
From angel and from flower the years have learned that soothing song,
And with its heavenly music speed the days and nights along;
So through all time, whose flight the Shepherd's vigils glorify,
God's Acre slumbereth in the grace of that sweet lullaby,--
"Sleep, oh, sleep!
The Shepherd loveth His sheep.
Fast speedeth the night away,
Soon cometh the glorious day;
Sleep, weary ones, while ye may,--
Sleep, oh, sleep!"
poem by Eugene Field
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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
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Astrophel's Song Of Phyllida And Corydon
Fair in a morn (O fairest morn!),
Was never morn so fair,
There shone a sun, though not the sun
That shineth in the air.
For the earth, and from the earth,
(Was never such a creature!)
Did come this face (was never face
That carried such a feature).
Upon a hill (O blessèd hill!
Was never hill so blessèd),
There stood a man (was never man
For woman so distressed):
This man beheld a heavenly view,
Which did such virtue give
As clears the blind, and helps the lame,
And makes the dead man live.
This man had hap (O happy man!
More happy none than he);
For he had hap to see the hap
That none had hap to see.
This silly swain (and silly swains
Are men of meanest grace):
Had yet the grace (O gracious gift!)
To hap on such a face.
He pity cried, and pity came
And pitied so his pain,
As dying would not let him die
But gave him life again.
For joy whereof he made such mirth
As all the woods did ring;
And Pan with all his swains came forth
To hear the shepherd sing;
But such a song sung never was,
Nor shall be sung again,
Of Phyllida the shepherds' queen,
And Corydon the swain.
Fair Phyllis is the shepherds' queen,
(Was never such a queen as she,)
And Corydon her only swain
(Was never such a swain as he):
Fair Phyllis hath the fairest face
That ever eye did yet behold,
And Corydon the constant'st faith
That ever yet kept flock in fold;
Sweet Phyllis is the sweetest sweet
That ever yet the earth did yield,
And Corydon the kindest swain
That ever yet kept lambs in field.
Sweet Philomel is Phyllis' bird,
Though Corydon be he that caught her,
And Corydon doth hear her sing,
Though Phyllida be she that taught her:
Poor Corydon doth keep the fields
Though Phyllida be she that owes them,
And Phyllida doth walk the meads,
Though Corydon be he that mows them:
The little lambs are Phyllis' love,
Though Corydon is he that feeds them,
The gardens fair are Phyllis' ground,
Though Corydon is he that weeds them.
Since then that Phyllis only is
The only shepherd's only queen;
And Corydon the only swain
That only hath her shepherd been,--
Though Phyllis keep her bower of state,
Shall Corydon consume away?
No, shepherd, no, work out the week,
And Sunday shall be holiday.
poem by Nicholas Breton
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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
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Stranger, Shepherd and Sheep
Stranger sees all sheep are same
Shepherd sees all sheep are different
Sheep sees all strangers are same
Sheep sees all sheep are different
Shepherd sees all strangers are same
Stranger sees all strangers are different
Shepherd sees all shepherds are same
Sheep sees all shepherds are different
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Prayer At Night
Lord, for the one who dies alone
This night without companion,
I cannot rest, I cannot sleep.
O shepherd of the piteous sheep
Run with Thy crook, and lift in haste
The poor head to Thy loving breast.
Oh slake his deadly thirst from streams
Of Paradise, and give him dreams
Of the mild weather, the green sward.
Bind up his bitter wounds, O Lord,
And give him comfort. Let him know
His Shepherd 'tis that loves him so.
Thou countest Thy flock: not one is lost
But Thou goest seeking, for Thou knowest
The poor things creep away to die
Where none shall find save Thou art nigh.
Thou tak'st them to Thy arms, Thy knees,
And Thy sick lambs have sweetest ease.
Now I shall close my eyes in sleep,
Nor fret since they are Thine to keep,
Oh, happy sheep, to have such care,
The poorest, Love's own prisoner,
Who comforts as his mother might,
Rocking him into sleep at night.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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On Moonlit Heath and Lonesome Bank
On moonlit heath and lonesome bank
The sheep beside me graze;
And yon the gallows used to clank
Fast by the four cross ways.
A careless shepherd once would keep
The flocks by moonlight there, *
And high amongst the glimmering sheep
The dead man stood on air.
They hang us now in Shrewsbury jail:
The whistles blow forlorn,
And trains all night groan on the rail
To men that die at morn.
There sleeps in Shrewsbury jail to-night,
Or wakes, as may betide,
A better lad, if things went right,
Than most that sleep outside.
And naked to the hangman's noose
The morning clocks will ring
A neck God made for other use
Than strangling in a string.
And sharp the link of life will snap,
And dead on air will stand
Heels that held up as straight a chap
As treads upon the land.
So here I'll watch the night and wait
To see the morning shine,
When he will hear the stroke of eight
And not the stroke of nine;
And wish my friend as sound a sleep
As lads' I did not know,
That shepherded the moonlit sheep
A hundred years ago.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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