The fold

Behold,
The time is now! Bring back, bring back
Thy flocks of fancies, wild of whim.
O lead them from the mountain-track
Thy frolic thoughts untold,
O bring them in—the fields grow dim—
And let me be the fold!

Behold,
The time is now! Call in, O call
Thy pasturing 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!