The Enchanted Sheep-Fold

The hills far-off were blue, blue, The hills at hand were brown; And all the herd-bells called to me As I came by the down.

The briars turned to roses—roses, Ever we stayed to pull A white little rose, and a red little rose, And a lock of silver wool.

Nobody heeded,—none, none; And when True Love came by, They thought him nought but the shepherd-boy. Nobody knew but I!

The trees were feathered like birds, birds; Birds were in every tree. Yet nobody heeded, nobody heard, Nobody knew, save we.

And he is fairer than all,—all. How could a heart go wrong? For his eyes I knew, and his knew mine, Like an old, old song.