Said the shepherd to his wife
The crop of hay is cut and dried
I'll bail it up and bring it in,
Before the coming storm begins
Go, she said, and beat the storm
And then there is another chore
Today the baby will be born,
You'll take me to the hospital
Said the shepherd, if it's true,
'Twere better if I stayed with you
I'd rather let the harvest go,
And hasten to the hospital
Nay, she told him, I'll be fine,
We both have laboring to do
You do yours and I'll do mine,
And the babe will wait 'til the work is through
The shepherd rode the yellow rows,
The clouds above and the field below
Until the bails had all been tied,
Then home returned to find his wife
The sweat was wet upon her brow,
Her breath it cameth labouredly
And then the rain was coming down,
Upon the field of yellow hay
Said the shepherd, it's no use,
The rain will surely win the race
'Twere better if we let it fall,
And hurry to the hospital
Go, she said, and work with haste,
And bring the bails into the barn
Else the crop will go to waste,
And the babe will wait 'til the work is done
The shepherd drove into the storm,
And to and from the yellow barn
'Til half the bails were safely in,
Then went to find his wife again
How many times her name he called,
And no replying would she make
Her breath it cameth not at all,
She would not rise from where she lay
The storm was o'er within the hour,
The shepherd saw the sun come out
The shepherd's wife saw ne'er again,
He buried her and the babe within
He turned the seed into the ground,
He brought the flock to feed thereon
He held the cleaver and the plow,
And the shepherd's work was never done
