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.