Fine she was, all that day,
Till she saw some path and trod away.
Singing, sighing,
Underneath the trees below the sun.
Her loving husband saw her go,
And bringing friends, he followed slow,
For peculiar was the look about her,
As the forest spread its arms around her.
Singing, sighing,
Underneath the trees below the sun.
Winding through the forest green,
They saw cast upon it a golden sheen.
She slowed, and so did they,
But ten steps behind.
Singing, sighing,
Underneath the trees below the sun.
Walked she down an emerald hill,
And came unto a standing still,
Before an Elfin man
Who touched her cheek with one fair hand.
Singing, sighing,
Underneath the trees below the sun.
Her husband did soon turn away
From the green ground where they lay.
And when the sun was all but spent
The Elfin man, he bowed, and went.
Singing, sighing,
Underneath the trees below the sun.
The air and sky was cold and chill,
And when the friends came to her, she was too still.
They picked her up and carried her home to bed.
Long they waited for her wake with silent dread.
Singing, sighing,
Underneath the trees below the sun.
And sometime after the leaves were gone,
A child was born.
Part of it was as its mother,
And part of it was as other.