Shepherd! while the lambs do feed,
And you rest beneath a tree,
Pipe upon an oaten reed
Merrily and merrily.
Should it rain do not forbear,
Rain comes from the happy sky,
Tune us now a quiet air
Till the shower passes by.
Back the sun will come in gold!
Pipe away, my dear, until
Evening brings the lambs to fold,
You may weep then if you will.