She weaves a crown of dripping reeds,
On which the moon shines ghastly—
"A wedding crown my lover needs,
My pale hands weave it fastly."
She treads a strange and solemn dance,
The waves around her groaning,
And mingles, with prophetic sense,
Her singing with their moaning.
VII.
"My bridegroom, nought can save thee now,
Since plighted troth is broken—
The fatal crown awaits thy brow,
The fatal spell is spoken.
Thou'rt standing by another bride,
Before the holy altar—
A shadowy form at thy side
Will make thy strong heart falter.
VIII.
"To her, within the holy church,
Thy perjured vows art giving;
But never shalt thou cross the porch
Again amidst the living.
I wait thee 'neath the chill cold waves,
While marriage-bells are tolling;
Our bridal chant, 'neath ocean's caves,
Be ocean's billows rolling."
IX.
The bridegroom, in his pride of youth,
Beside the fair bride standeth—
"Now take her hand to plight thy troth,"
The solemn Priest commandeth.
But lo! a shadowy form is seen
Betwixt the bridal greeting,
A shadowy hand is placed between,
To hinder theirs from meeting.
X.
The priest is mute, the bridegroom pale—
He knows the sea-nymph's warning;
The fair bride trembles 'neath her veil,
The bridal's turned to mourning.
No more within the holy church,
Love's holy vows are giving;
They bear the bridegroom from the porch—
The dead amidst the living!