Said the shepherd to his wife 'The crop of hay is cut and dried I'll bale it up and bring it in Before the coming storm begins' 'Go' she said 'and beat the storm And then there is another chore Today the baby will be born You'll take me to the hospital' Said the shepherd 'if it's true Twere better if I stayed with you I'd rather let the harvest go And hasten to the hospital' 'Nay' she told him 'I'll be fine We both have laboring to do You do yours and I'll do mine And the babe will wait till the work is thru'
The shepherd rode the yellow rows The clouds above and the fields below Until the bales had all been tied Then homeward turned to find his wife The sweat was wet upon her brow Her breath it cameth laboredly And then the rain was coming down Upon the fields of yellow hay Said the shepherd, 'it's no use The rain will surely win the race Twere better if we let it fall And hurry to the hospital' 'Go' she said 'and work with haste And bring the bales into the barn Else the crop will go to waste And the babe will wait till the work is done'
The shepherd drove into the storm And to and from the yellow barn Till half the bales were safely in Then went to find his wife again How many times her name he called And no replying would she make Her breath it cameth not at all She would not rise from where she lay
The storm was o'er within the hour The shepherd saw the sun come out The shepherd's wife saw ne'er again He buried her and the babe within He turned the seed into the ground He brought the flock to feed thereon He held the cleaver and the plow And the shepherd's work was never done