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.