I am a shepherd of those sheep
⁠That climb a wall by night,
One after one, until I sleep,
⁠Or the black pane goes white.
Because of which I cannot see
⁠A flock upon a hill,
But doubts come tittering up to me
⁠That should by day be still
And childish griefs I have outgrown
⁠Into my eyes are thrust,
Till my dull tears go dropping down
⁠Like lead into the dust.