Read it through once

Then I tuned my harp,--took off the lilies we twine round its chords Lest they snap ‘neath the stress of the noontide--those sunbeams like swords! And I first played the tune all our sheep know, as, one after one, So docile they come to the pen-door till folding be done. They are white, and untorn by the bushes, for lo, they have fed Where the long grasses stifle the water within the stream’s bed; {40} And now one after one seeks its lodging, as star follows star Into eve and the blue far above us,--so blue and so far!