LONGFELLOW
In a great land, a new land, a land full of labour and riches and
confusion,
Where there were many running to and fro, and shouting, and striving
together,
In the midst of the hurry and the troubled noise, I heard the voice of
one singing.
"What are you doing there, O man, singing quietly amid all this tumult?
This is the time for new inventions, mighty shoutings, and blowings of
the trumpet."
But he answered, "I am only shepherding my sheep with music."
So he went along his chosen way, keeping his little flock around him;
And he paused to listen, now and then, beside the antique fountains,
Where the faces of forgotten gods were refreshed with musically falling
waters;
Or he sat for a while at the blacksmith's door, and heard the cling-clang
of the anvils;
Or he rested beneath old steeples full of bells, that showered their
chimes upon him;
Or he walked along the border of the sea, drinking in the long roar of
the billows;
Or he sunned himself in the pine-scented shipyard, amid the tattoo of
the mallets;
Or he leaned on the rail of the bridge, letting his thoughts flow with
the whispering river;
He hearkened also to ancient tales, and made them young again with his
singing.
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