And on to the rock's top they walked,
Till they stood o'er the salt sea's brim.
"And there," said he, "'s your bridal bed,
Where you may sink or swim."
A moonbeam shone upon his face,
The maid sunk at his feet,
For 't was her own false love she saw,
That once so fond did greet.
"And did ye promise love for this?
Is the grave my priest to be?
And did ye bring this silken dress
To wed me with the sea?"
"O never mind your dress," quoth he,
'T is well to dress for sea:
Mermaids will love to see you fine;
Your bridesmaids they will be."
"O let me cast this gown away,
It's brought no good to me,
And if my mother greets my clay
Too wretched will she be.
For she, for my sad sake, would keep
This guilty bridal dress,
To break and tell her bursting heart
She had a daughter less."
So off she threw her bridal gown,
Likewise her gold clasped shoon:
His looks frowned hard as any stone,
Hers pale turned as the moon.
"O false, false knight you've wrapped me warm
Ere I was cold before,
And now you strip me unto death,
Although I'm out of door.
O dash away those thistles rude,
That crowd about the shore;
They'll wound my tender feet, that ne'er
Went barefoot thus before.
O dash those stinging nettles down,
And cut away the brier,
For deep they wound those lily arms
Which you did once admire."