But surely she had left her sign
To bid me on to search.
And I did weary of my task
And put my hopes to rest,
And slept me on the eve afore her birth,
Full sure to search anew at morn.
And then the morning broke;
And e’er mine eyes did ope,
I fancied me a scarlet sprite,
With wings of green and scepter of a mistletoe,