With a moonlight-mystery,
And a dew-fire’s on your head;
But your weight is weight of lead;
And I cannot see your eyes,
Cannot see your faery eyes . . .
Let me linger, let me ken,
Let me view thee, peerless one—
Queen of the Marsh, Queen of the Fen—
Gaze my fill by the mystic moon,
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful one.