“Little elves and little people
“Pilfer all our bread and bacon;
“In the drawer at night they’re lying,
“But by morning all is taken.
“Next our cream the little people
“From the milk are wont to sup,
“Leaving, too, the bowl uncover’d,
“And the cat the rest drinks up.
“And the cat a witch indeed is,
“For she crawls, while night-storms lower,
“Up the spirit-mountain yonder
“To the ancient ruin’d tower.
“There a castle erst was standing,
“Full of joy and glittering arms;
“Knights and squires, in merry torch-dance,
“Mingled with the ladies’ charms.
“Then a wicked old enchantress
“Men and castle too bewitch’d;
“Nought remaineth but the ruins,
“Where the owls their nest have pitch’d.
“Yet my late aunt used to tell us:
“If the proper word is said
“At the proper hour at nighttime
“At the proper place o’erhead,
“Then the ruins will be changèd
“To a castle fair once more,
“Knights and squires and ladies gaily
“Will be dancing as of yore.
“Him by whom that word is spoken
“Men and castle will obey;
“Drums and trumpets will proclaim him,
“Heralding his sov’reign sway.”
Thus the charming legends issue
From the mouth so like a rose,
While an azure starry radiance
From her sweet eyes overflows.
Round my hand the little maiden
Twines her golden hair with glee,
Calls by pretty names my fingers,
Kisses, laughs, then mute is she.