Shepherd 1: Verdant meadows and Arcadian hills

If all I could promise my fleecy lambs
 

Shepherd 2: But to flock them till they find pen safe

How to save ewe lambs from watchful foe?
 

Shepherd 1: Fie ! those men who bar the innocent sheep

Whose land they fertilise and weed with hooves
 

Shepherd 2: Fencing pastures barring my flock

‘Not for grazing’, says their arable land
 

Shepherd 1: I glance poor lambs and beckon them all

Bells clanking towards the golden meadow
 

Shepherd 2: Remote from grief and beguiling men

Where nature pure will surely allure
 

Shepherd 1: Let’s head to ancient lands where Pan’s  flute thrall

Enamelled in bucolic bliss stay blessed .