letra de nod, op. 12 - cecil armstrong gibbs
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softly along the road of evening
in a twilight dim with rose
wrinkled with age, and drenched with dew
old nod, the shepherd, goes
his drowsy flock streams on before him
their fleeces charged with gold
to where the sun’s last beam leans low
on nod the shepherd’s fold
the hedge is quick and green with briar
from their sand the conies creep;
and all the birds that fly in heaven
flock singing home to sleep
his lambs outnumber a noon’s roses
yet, when night’s shadows fall
his blind old sheep-dog, slumber-soon
missеs not one of all
his are the quiеt steeps of dreamland
the waters of no-more-pain;
his ram’s bell rings ‘neath an arch of stars
“rest, rest, and rest again.”
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