When a little farm I keep,I shall tend my kine and sheep,And my pretty lambs shall foldIn deep pastures starred with gold.
On green carpets they shall tread,Gold and purple be their bed,Honey clover make their foodIn a watered solitude.
Garden places I shall tend,For a welcome to a friend,Make for him a roomy seatBy the box and privet sweet.
And my kitchen garden shallGrow me fruits on tree and wall,Give me blossoms in the spingAnd an autumn gathering.
An old dial and a coteWhere the pigeons fly and float,And a well so green and dimWhere the little fishes swim.
Hives of honey I shall own,Bees with drowsy monotoneToil all day to bring me homeHeather honey at the gloam.
Twixt the mountains and the seaThere my little farm will be.In a heart-remembered spotI shall have my happy lot.
In a heart-remembered place,Where the mountains lift their face,I shall tend my sheep and kine,And a thankful heart be mine.
When a little farm I keep,I shall sleep the happiest sleep,To my simple meals inviteThanksgiving and appetite.
In the heart-remembered placeI shall wear a shining face,And my quiet nights be praise,And a prayer my innocent days.
