can be;
Rest, little young one, rest; what is't that aileth
thee?

What is it thou wouldst seek? what is wanting to
thy heart?
Thy limbs are they not strong? And beautiful
thou art:
This grass is tender grass; these flowers they
have no peers;
And that green corn all day is rustling in thy ears!

If the sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy woolen
chain;
This beech is standing by, its covert thou canst
gain!

For rain and mountain storms, the like thou need'st
not fear;
The rain and storm are things that scarcely can
come here.

Rest little young one, rest; thou hast forgot the day
When my father found thee first in places far away;
Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wert owned
by none,
And thy mother from thy side forevermore was
gone.

[Illustration]