SHEEPFOLD.

1 The sheep were in the fold at night, And now a new-born lamb Totters and trembles in the light, Or bleats beside its dam.

2 How anxiously the mother tries, With every tender care, To screen it from inclement skies, And the cold morning air!

3 The hailstorm of the east is fled, She seems with joy to swell, Whilst ever as she bends her head, I hear the tinkling bell.

4 So while for me a mother's prayer Ascends to heaven above, May I repay her tender care With gratitude and love!