The birds within that dreamy wood
             Rose fluttering, half aghast
          To see the crashing branches reel
             As in a south-west blast.

          And ever and aye, with spur and whip,
             Sir Graelent held his way;
          Yet neither with arrow nor with spear
             Could he the roebuck slay.

          So far he chased it, that at length
             The day was nearly done,
          And, burning through the dusky trees,
             He saw the round red sun.

          And down beside a silver brook
             That loitered through a glade,
          He sat, to rest himself awhile
             Within the murmuring shade.

          God wot, it is a fearful thing
             That sits beside him there—
          A thing with glimmering eyes that move
             Beneath a weight of hair!

          Is it a phantom of the woods?
             Is it a ghost from out a dream?
          It throws no shadow on the trees,
             It casts no reflex in the stream!

          She sat upon a grassy bank,
             And combed her locks of gold:
          Her very loveliness was such
             As made the warm blood cold.

          She sat and combed her golden locks,
             And a golden comb used she:
          She looked like something that had lived
             Far down within the sea.

          Oh, golden hair! oh, golden comb!
             Oh, fingers white and long!
          Your movements all kept measure
             With the measure of her song! —

          "Knight, I have a shining house
             Underneath the brook,
          Wherein neither sun nor moon
             Nor the stars can look.

          "But the great round eyes of pearls
             Light the crystal spaces
          And the flushing coral chambers
             Meant for our embraces.

          "And the brook goes singing, singing
             Overhead, for ever, ever;
          Into wavelets breaking, falling,
              As it slides towards the river.

          "Plight thy faith and pledge thy love,
             And press thy warm lips upon mine;
          For loveless life is cold and sad,
             And in my empty bowers I pine."

          Sir Graelent started to his feet
             When he saw what thing was near;
          But she stayed him with her murmuring voice:
             He was constrained to hear.

          He looked into her ghostly eyes
             That were so fair to see:
          He said, " Thou art a living lie!
             No love thou get'st from me."

          Up then leapt the elvish maid,
             And breathed upon the knight:
          " I curse thee with a pestilent curse!
             Be dead ere morning light!"

          Sir Graelent climbed upon his steed,
             And through the wood he past;
          But ever the faster as he rode,
             The curse it rode as fast.

            II.

          "Oh, mother, kiss me on the mouth,
             My life is flitting by!
          Oh, hold me softly in your arms,
             For to-morrow I shall die!

           "Oh, mother, see my bed prepared,
             My sand is almost run;
          I shall be heavy and cold as lead
             Before the morning sun.

          "Oh, I am sick, and very sick,
             And weary to the bones,
          And soon must lie all white and dumb
             Beneath the church-yard stones!

          "A water-witch within the wood
             Has wrought my early death:
          Because I met her love with scorn,
             She slew me with her breath.

          "Good sister, make my pillow smooth,
             And let the mass be said:
          I feel already within the earth,
             And the long grass over my head.

          "Alas! that I should die so soon,
             And my wife no more should see!
          Alas! that I must leave my child
           Before he knoweth me!

          "The night it cometh on full fast,
             And the dark fills either eye.
          Oh, there is but a little step
             Between the earth and sky!

          "When I am gone, take care of her
             Whom I leave to weep and rue;
          But let her not know all at once,
             Or her heart will break in two."

             III.

          "Good mother-in-law, I pray thee tell
             Why my husband keeps away."
          "My child, he has ridden into the town,
             And must awhile there stay."

          "But why, oh mother-in-law, but why
             Do the priests their dirges sing?
          And why do the bells in the windy tower
             So sadly rock and ring?"

          "My child, we succoured an aged man
             Last night; and this morn he died."
          As she spoke, her tears burst out like rain,
             And her head she turned aside.

          "Dear mother-in-law, when I go to church,
             What coloured gown shall I wear?"
          "My daughter, in church all people now
             In nought but black appear."—

          As they past into the old churchyard,
             She saw a grave new made:
          "My mother, who of our family
             In the ground has here been laid?"