[LADY'S SLIPPER.]
MY lady she rose from her bower, her bower,
All under the linden tree.
'Twas midnight past, and the fairies' hour,
And up and away must she.
She's pulled on her slippers of golden yellow,
Her mantle of gossamer green;
And she's away to the elfin court,
To wait on the elfin queen.
Oh hone! my lady's slipper,
Oh hey! my lady's shoe.
She's lost its fellow, so golden yellow,
A-tripping it over the dew.
And now she flitted, and now she stepped,
Through dells of the woodland deep,
Where owls were flying awake, awake,
And birds were sitting asleep.
And now she flitted, and now she trod,
Where the mist hung shadowy-white;
And the river lay gleaming, sleeping, dreaming,
Under the sweet moonlight.
Oh hone! my lady's slipper,
Oh hey! my lady's shoe.
She's lost its fellow, so golden yellow,
A-tripping it over the dew.
And now she passed through the wild marsh-land,
Where the marsh-elves lay asleep;
And a heron blue was their watchman true,
Good watch and ward for to keep.