The Shepherd's Glory: OR,  

A pleasant Song o'th' Shepherd Swain,  
Who feed their Flocks upon the plain  
Whose Arms and Honour far outshines  
The Coesar's and great Constantine's.   
To the Tune of, True love rewarded with loyalty: Or, Flora Farewell.  
 
 
 


Now I am in a merry vein,  
I'll sing about the Shepherd Swain;  
Who night and day the Fields do keep,  
To wait upon the flocks of Sheep.   

In Royal Tombs some of them lie,  
And are of great Antiquity:  
Their Ancientry quite out doth run,  
To Father Adam's second Son,   

Who though he was by's Brother slain,  
Yet first he was a Shepherd Swain;  
Who did a Lamb toth' Altar bring,  
And made it his burnt Offering.   

The Lamb was innocent from harms,  
And thence became the Shepherd's Arms:  
The ignorant do little know,  
The Royal Escutcheons they can show.    

The Second part,  
the same Tune.  

The next man that i'th' field appears,  
Was Abraham with his Ram i'th' briers,  
But if he lead them in the Hain,  
A Whistle brings them back again.   

And Jacob gained the Cherubin,  
When th' Angel was o'ercome by him:  
Where like a Prince he did prevail,  
And changed his name to Israel.   

The Knitter and the Tailor too,  
Without the Fleece can little do:  
Were it not for the Shepherd Swain,  
The Wheel and Loom were made in vain.   

And Moses brought the Bush on fire,  
And joined to Abraham's Ram i'th' Brier:  
And Judah Father of the Kings,  
The mighty Couching Lion brings.   

A Bear and Lion both were slain,  
When David was a Shepherd swain:  
Three Shepherds came from East so far,  
Their only guide the Shepherd's star.   

These were the tidings they did bring,  
To Israel is born a King:  
And David used the staff and sling,  
Before that he was Iudah's King.   

But when he had Goliath slain,  
He left those Army toth' shepherd swain:  
Which in those days were of Renown,  
When Moses spurned at Pharoahs' Crown.   

And left the Court and took the Fields,  
Which braver sport and pleasure yields:  
Which are bestrewed with pleasant flowers,  
And are bedewed with Crystal showers.   

Which makes their Beauty to excel,  
And send forth a most fragrant smell:  
Where Nightingales i'th' Bushes sing,  
For to salute the early spring.   

Where towering Larks do soar on high,  
In consort, making Melody:  
Where Chanting Birds i'th' woods do sing  
Which makes the hallow Valleys ring.   

Where flocks of sheep staight on the dounds,  
And shepherds guide and keep their bounds:  
And lead them into Valleys green,  
Where chrystial streams, the hills between.   

Do trickle down and freely spring,  
Which makes the shepherd swains to sing:  
A Horned sheep a Bell doth Ring,  
And guides the rest much like a King.   

And from the hot and scorching Sun,  
The Groves do shade the flock at Noon:  
The Shepherd with his Pipe and Reed,  
Makes Melody, while they do feed.   

A Box of Tar a Dog doth bear,  
Which is for Sheep an Ointment rare:  
The use whereof all Shepherds know,  
Therefore in vain the Fly doth blow.   

Though Frost and snow do pinch with cold,  
The Shepherd will not leave his Fold:  
And carefully his flock doth feed,  
But doth supply what else they need.   

And while the Ewes do eat their Hay,  
The Lambs do frisk about and play:  
The Shepherd's pleased for to behold,  
The Lambs a dancing round the Fold.   

None with the Shepherd may compare,  
For useful and substantial Ware:  
'tis with the Fleece that Women Spin,  
And so the Weaving trade comes in.   

Now Shepherds I leave you all,  
To him that doth and ever shall;  
Who can alone in safety keep,  
The pleasant Shepherds and their Sheep.     

Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball, near the Hospital-gate, in West-smithfield.