YOUR voice is like the fairy harps
  The wandering shepherd hears,
That tell of laughter without joy,
  And light unsaddened tears.

You laugh and I can never tell
  If you are glad or no.
You weep and cannot understand
  The things that hurt me so.

But still your eager, heartless voice
  Is calling night and day,
And I must follow like the men
  That hear the fairies play.