THE FOLD

Behold,

The time is now! Bring back, bring back

Thy flocks of fancies, wild of whim.

Oh lead them from the mountain-track —

Thy frolic thoughts untold.

Oh bring them in — the fields grow dim —

And let me be the fold.

Behold,

The time is now! Call in, O call

Thy posturing kisses gone astray

For scattered sweets. Gather them all

To shelter from the cold.

Throng them together, close and gay,

And let me be the fold!