Sheep in Winter

The sheep get up and make their many tracks And bear a load of snow upon their backs, And gnaw the frozen turnip to the ground With sharp quick bite, and then go noising round The boy that pecks the turnips all the day And knocks his hands to keep the cold away And laps his legs in straw to keep them warm And hides behind the hedges from the storm. The sheep, as tame as dogs, go where he goes And try to shake their fleeces from the snows, Then leave their frozen meal and wander round The stubble stack that stands beside the ground, And lie all night and face the drizzling storm And shun the hovel where they might be warm.