The herdsman
Ernest John Moeran
O herdsman, driving your slow twilight flock
By darkening meadow and hedge and grassy rath,
The trees stand shuddering as you pass by,
The suddenly falling silence is your path.
Over my heart the shadows too are creeping,
But on my heart for ever they will lie.
O happy meadow and trees and raths and hedges,
The twilight and all its flock will pass you by.