Contemplative Poem Seventeen

O true Shepherd,
O true leadership in strife,
O true firm voice through the rocky night,
O one who lays it bare with toil and with sweat,
Be thou my rod and staff!

O only pastoral one,
Alone you face the rugged plain,
(the lion and the wolf are slain),
You warm yourself by firelight!

O you have called me lamb,
O you have wandered by the stars,
Your branches, kindling charred!

O I will scoop the ashes of your life,
O Olive oil, I turn the tallow into soap,
O Your lonely flute is lithe,
O Not one lamb is tied with rope,
O I shall trust your mischievous crook,
Pastoral Pan!

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