De Massa Ob De Sheepfol' Poem by Sarah Pratt McLean Greene

De massa ob de sheepfol'
   Dat guard de sheepfol' bin,
Look out in de gloomerin' meadows
   Whar de long night rain begin --
So he call to de hirelin' shephe'd:
   "Is my sheep -- is dey all come in?"

Oh den, says de hirelin' shephe'd,
   "Dey's some, dey's black and thin,
And some, dey's po' ol' wedda's --
   But de res', dey's all brung in.
   But de res', dey's all brung in."

Den de massa ob de sheepfol'
   Dat guard de sheepfol' bin,
Goes down in de gloomerin' meadows
   Whar de long night rain begin --
So he le' down de ba's ob de sheepfol',
   Callin' sof': "Come in! Come in!"
   Callin' sof': "Come in! Come in!"

Den up t'ro de gloomerin' meadows,
   T'ro de col' night rain an' win',
An' up t'ro de gloomerin' rain-paf
   Whar de sleet fa' piercin' thin --
De po' los' sheep ob de sheepfol'
   Dey all comes gadderin' in.
De po' los' sheep ob de sheepfol',
   Dey all comes gadderin' in!