Crowned with thyme and marjory Merry elves dance on the lea. From a woodland path known to the deer On his black horse comes a cavalier. His golden spur gleams in the night, And when he crosses the moonlight There glistens forth with shifting flare A silver helmet on his hair. Crowned with thyme and marjory Merry elves dance on the lea. They swirl about him in soft quair That seems to hover in the air. "Bold horseman, so late in the night serene, Where are you going?" asks the young queen. "Evil spirits haunt the weald, Come dance with us in the grassy field." Crowned with thyme and marjory Merry elves dance on the lea. "No. My bride with lifted head Waits me; in the morn we wed. Let me pass, you moorland elves Who circling crowd the mossy shelves; From my love no more delay; Already gleams the rousing day." Crowned with thyme and marjory Merry elves dance on the lea. "Stay, horseman. Yours to have and hold The magic opal, the ring of gold, And—more than wealth or glory strewn— My gown spun by the light of the moon." "No!" he answered. "Go then!" Pressed Her lily hand to the warrior's breast. Crowned with thyme and marjory Merry elves dance on the lea. The black horse heeds the spurting spur, He runs, he leaps as the winds stir; But the rider shivers and forward bends, For with the dawn a dim form blends And quietly white fingers sway: "Elf, spirit, demon, clear my way!" Crowned with thyme and marjory Merry elves dance on the lea. "Clear my way, you hateful sprite! I will wed the maid of my delight." "O husband mine"—her voice was gloom— "Our wedding bed must be the tomb. I am dying." As her spirit fled, From love and sorrow he fell dead. Crowned with thyme and marjory Merry elves dance on the lea. |