The stars went round to a riding song:
"Kelpie, Kelpie, carry us through!"
And the goblin maidens danced thereto.
Till dawn,—and the revel died with a shout,
For the ocean riders were wearied out.
They looked, and the grass was warm and soft;
The dreamy clouds went over aloft;
A gloom of pines on the weather verge
Had the lulling sound of their own white surge;