The Sheep
“Lazy sheep, pray tell me why
In the pleasant field you lie,
Eating grass and daisies white,
From the morning till the night;
Everything can something do,
But what kind of use are you?”
“Nay, my little master, nay,
Do not serve me so, I pray.
Don’t you see the wool that grows
On my back to make your clothes?
Cold, ah, very cold you’d be,
If you had not wool from me.”
Ann Taylor