The Shepherd and his Cot
By P.C.*

The shepherd's abode on the Pampa Plains
Is a small humble rustic cot
In which domestic happiness reigns
When contented with his lot.

A solitary life he is doomed to spend
In retirement's fond embraces
To pleasure's lure he seldom bends
For to his care his mind retraces.

Tho' the tempest's howl and the lightning's flash
Their dire alarms don't him annoy
His Rancho old stood many a crash
Those rough mud walls and posts of ñandubay.

And when the tempest's blast lulls him to sleep
Till bright sol emerges from the East
Then out of his cot you'll see him peep
On the broad landscape his eyes to feast.

Such a pleasant scene then meets his view
At the change all nature seems to smile
The camp rich de ckedin a verdant hue
Reminds him of his native Isle.

Tho' remote from friends his Native Land
He still breathes hope that he may see
And touch again her distant strand
That Emerald Isle Sweet-Gra-Ma-Cree.

* 'El Monitor de la Campaña' N° 33 (Capilla del Señor,
5 April 1872)