He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee home—
A blessèd day for thee!—then whither wouldst thou roam?
A faithful nurse thou hast; the dam that did thee yean
Upon the mountain-tops no kinder could have been.
“Thou knowst that twice a day I have brought thee in this can
Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever ran;
And twice within the day, when the ground is wet with dew,
I bring thee draughts of milk—warm milk it is and new.
“Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they are now;
Then I’ll yoke thee to my cart, like a pony to the plow;