Little Bo-Peep
Little Bo-Peep, she has lost her sheep,And will not know where to find them;They are over the height and out of sight,Trailing their tails behind them!
Little Bo-Peep woke out of her sleep,Jump'd up and set out to find them:"The silly things! they've got no wings,And they've left their trails behind them!
"They've taken their tails, but they've left their trails,And so I shall follow and find them!"For wherever a tail had dragged a trailThe grass lay bent behind them.
She washed in the brook, and caught up her crook.And after her sheep did runAlong the trail that went up the daleAcross the grass in the sun.
She ran with a will, and she came to a hillThat went up steep like a spire;On its very top the sun seemed to stop,And burned like a flame of fire.
But now she went slow, for the hill did goUp steeper as she went higher;When she reached its crown, the sun was down,Leaving a trail of fire.
And her sheep were gone, and hope she had none.For now was no trail behind them.Yes, there they were! long-tailed and fair!But to see was not to find them!
Golden in hue, and rosy and blue,And white as blossom of pears,Her sheep they did run in the trail of the sun,As she had been running in theirs!
After the sun like clouds they did run,But she knew they were her sheep:She sat down to cry and look up at the sky,But she cried herself to sleep.
And as she slept the dew down wept,And the wind did blow from the sky;And doings strange brought a lovely change:She woke with a different cry!
Nibble, nibble, crop, without a stop!A hundred little lambsDid pluck and eat the grass so sweetThat grew in the trail of their dams!
She gave one look, she caught up her crook,Wiped away the sleep that did blind her;And nibble-nibble-crop, without a stopThe lambs came nibbling behind her.
Home, home she came, both tired and lame,With three times as large a stock;In a month or more, they'll be sheep as before,A lovely, long-wooled flock!
But what will she say, if, one fine day,When they've got their bushiest tails,Their grown-up game should be just the same,And again she must follow mere trails?
Never weep, Bo-Peep, though you lose your sheep,Tears will turn rainbow-laughter!In the trail of the sun if the mothers did run,The lambs are sure to run after;
But a day is coming when little feet drummingWill wake you up to find them--All the old sheep--how your heart will leap!--With their big little lambs behind them!
Words in this poem
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- wherever adv.
- At or in whatever place; wheresoever.
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- steeper n.
- A vessel, vat, or cistern, in which things are steeped.
- drumming n.
- The act of beating upon, or as if upon, a drum; also, the noise which the male of the ruffed grouse makes in spring, by beating his wings upon his sides.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Little Bo-Peep is in the public domain. This text is taken from The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes — Volume 2, Project Gutenberg ebook #9984; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: George MacDonald, Little Bo-Peep, in A Microcosm in Terza Rima, and Other Poems (1893), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #9984, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/macdonald-poems/little-bo-peep.html, id L22346.
Form and metre
Little Bo-Peep is 64 lines in 16 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 78%).
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 -A-A sheep · themA · sight · themA
- 2 -A-A sleep · themA · wings · themA
- 3 -A-A trails · themA · trail · themA
- 4 -A-A crook · runA · dale · sunA
- 5 -A-A hill · spireA · stop · fireA
- 6 -A-A go · higherA · down · fireA
- 7 -A-A none · themA · fair · themA
- 8 -A-A blue · pearsA · sun · theirsA
- 9 -A-A run · sheepA · sky · sleepA
- 10 -A-A wept · skyA · change · cryA
- 11 -A-A stop · lambsA · sweet · damsA
- 12 -A-A crook · herA · stop · herA
- 13 -A-A lame · stockA · before · flockA
- 14 -A-A day · tailsA · same · trailsA
- 15 -A-A sheep · laughterA · run · afterA
- 16 -A-A drumming · themA · leap · themA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Little Bo-Peep, she has lost her sheep, | 9 | /˘······· |
| And will not know where to find them; | 8 | ········ |
| They are over the height and out of sight, | 10 | ·········· |
| Trailing their tails behind them! | 7 | /˘····· |
| Little Bo-Peep woke out of her sleep, | 9 | /˘······· |
| Jump'd up and set out to find them: | 8 | ········ |
| "The silly things! they've got no wings, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And they've left their trails behind them! | 8 | ········ |
| "They've taken their tails, but they've left their trails, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| And so I shall follow and find them!" | 9 | ····/˘··· |
| For wherever a tail had dragged a trail | 10 | ·˘/˘······ |
| The grass lay bent behind them. | 7 | ······· |
| She washed in the brook, and caught up her crook. | 10 | ·········· |
| And after her sheep did run | 7 | ······· |
| Along the trail that went up the dale | 9 | ˘/······· |
| Across the grass in the sun. | 7 | ˘/····· |
| She ran with a will, and she came to a hill | 11 | ··········· |
| That went up steep like a spire; | 7 | ······· |
| On its very top the sun seemed to stop, | 10 | ··/˘······ |
| And burned like a flame of fire. | 9 | ··˘····/˘ |
| But now she went slow, for the hill did go | 10 | ·········· |
| Up steeper as she went higher; | 8 | ·/˘···/˘ |
| When she reached its crown, the sun was down, | 10 | ···˘······ |
| Leaving a trail of fire. | 7 | /˘···/˘ |
| And her sheep were gone, and hope she had none. | 10 | ·········· |
| For now was no trail behind them. | 8 | ········ |
| Yes, there they were! long-tailed and fair! | 9 | ······˘·· |
| But to see was not to find them! | 8 | ········ |
| Golden in hue, and rosy and blue, | 9 | /˘···/˘·· |
| And white as blossom of pears, | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| Her sheep they did run in the trail of the sun, | 11 | ··········· |
| As she had been running in theirs! | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| After the sun like clouds they did run, | 9 | ········· |
| But she knew they were her sheep: | 7 | ······· |
| She sat down to cry and look up at the sky, | 11 | ··········· |
| But she cried herself to sleep. | 7 | ···˘/·· |
| And as she slept the dew down wept, | 8 | ········ |
| And the wind did blow from the sky; | 8 | ········ |
| And doings strange brought a lovely change: | 9 | ·/˘···/˘· |
| She woke with a different cry! | 8 | ····/˘˘· |
| Nibble, nibble, crop, without a stop! | 9 | /˘/˘····· |
| A hundred little lambs | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| Did pluck and eat the grass so sweet | 8 | ········ |
| That grew in the trail of their dams! | 8 | ········ |
| She gave one look, she caught up her crook, | 9 | ········· |
| Wiped away the sleep that did blind her; | 10 | ·˘˘/······ |
| And nibble-nibble-crop, without a stop | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| The lambs came nibbling behind her. | 9 | ···/˘˘··· |
| Home, home she came, both tired and lame, | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| With three times as large a stock; | 7 | ······· |
| In a month or more, they'll be sheep as before, | 11 | ··········· |
| A lovely, long-wooled flock! | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| But what will she say, if, one fine day, | 9 | ········· |
| When they've got their bushiest tails, | 7 | ······· |
| Their grown-up game should be just the same, | 9 | ········· |
| And again she must follow mere trails? | 9 | ·˘/··/˘·· |
| Never weep, Bo-Peep, though you lose your sheep, | 10 | /˘········ |
| Tears will turn rainbow-laughter! | 7 | ···/·/˘ |
| In the trail of the sun if the mothers did run, | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| The lambs are sure to run after; | 8 | ········ |
| But a day is coming when little feet drumming | 12 | ····/˘·/˘·/˘ |
| Will wake you up to find them-- | 7 | ······· |
| All the old sheep--how your heart will leap!-- | 9 | ········· |
| With their big little lambs behind them! | 9 | ···/˘···· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.