Unfolding The Flocks

Shepherds, rise, and shake off sleep - See the blushing morn doth peep Through your windows, while the sun To the mountain-tops has run, Gilding all the vales below With his rising flames, which grow Brighter with his climbing still - Up! ye lazy swains! and fill Bag and bottle for the field; Clasp your cloaks fast, lest they yield To the bitter north-east wind; Call the maidens up, and find Who lies longest, that she may Be chidden for untimed delay. Feed your faithful dogs, and pray Heaven to keep you from decay; So unfold, and then away.