THE ALPINE SHEPHERD by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS

IN scenery sublime and rude,
In wild romantic solitude,
Where awful summits crowned with snow,
In soft and varied colours glow;
There, in some grassy sheltered spot,
The Alpine shepherd forms his cot;
And there, beside his peaceful home,
The fairest mountain-flowerets bloom;
There oft his playful children climb
The rock fantastic and sublime,
And cull the mantling shrubs that creep,
And sweetly blossom o'er the steep.
'Tis his to mark the morning ray,
Upon the glittering scenery play;
To watch the purple evening shade,
In sweet and mellow tinges fade;
And hail the sun's departing smile,
That beams upon the hills a while:
And oft, at moonlight hour serene,
He wanders through the shadowy scene:
And then his pipe with plaintive sound
Awakes the mountain-echoes round.
How dear to him the sheltered spot,
The waving pines that shade his cot;
His pastoral music wild and gay,
May charm his simple cares away;
And never will he sigh to roam,
Far from his native mountain-home.

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