pastor appreciation poem

melancholy, blue it was
but alas, just dreams
have you seen walking through the village
in may
there's one that i once loved so much
let me move slowly through the street
in all things not spoken of
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
and how could you dream of meeting
let us express our baser passions
her face is fair and smooth and fine