I am your reed, sweet shepherd, glad to be
Now if you will, breathe out your joy in me
And make bright songs or fill me
With the soft moan of your love
When your delight has failed
To call or move your flock from wrong
Make children songs or any song to fill
Your reed with breath of life
But at your will
Lay down the flute and take repose
While music infinite
Is silence in our heart
And laid on it you reed is mute