poem for pastors

could we but know
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
over the river they beckon to me
all within and all without me
have you seen walking through the village
the pale day drowses on the western steep
like eagles on up high
friend, whose smile has come to be
there is no flock, however watched and tended
since, if you stood by my side today
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
since i have felt the sense of death
to clothe the fiery thought