Lope de Vega (1562–1635)

Translated by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

SHEPHERD! who with thine amorous, sylvan song

Hast broken the slumber that encompassed me,—

That mad’st thy crook from the accursèd tree,

On which thy powerful arms were stretched so long!

Lead me to mercy’s ever-flowing fountains;

For thou my shepherd, guard, and guide shalt be;

I will obey thy voice, and wait to see

Thy feet all beautiful upon the mountains.

Hear, Shepherd!—Thou who for thy flock art dying,

O, wash away these scarlet sins, for thou

Rejoicest at the contrite sinner’s vow.

O, wait!—to thee my weary soul is crying,—

Wait for me!—Yet why ask it when I see,

With feet nailed to the cross, thou’rt waiting still for me.