Classic Poem

He.

Whither away, fair Neat-herdess? She .
Shepherd, I go to tend my kine. He .
Stay thou, and watch this flock of mine. She .
With thee? Nay, that were idleness. He .
Thy kine will pasture none the less. She .
Not so: they wait me and my sign. He .
I'll pipe to thee beneath the pine. She .
Thy pipe will soothe not their distress. He .
Dost thou not hear beside the spring
How the gay birds are carolling? She .
I hear them. But it may not be. He .
Farewell then, Sweetheart! Farewell now. She .
Shepherd, farewell — — Where goest thou? He .
I go . . to tend thy kine for thee!