“See the old man weeps for his fairy bride.”

O the mistletoe bough! O the mistletoe bough!

At length an old chest, which had long lain hid,

Was found in the castle; they raised the lid.

The skeleton form lay mouldering there,

In the bridal wreath of the lady fair.

O sad was her fate when in sportive jest

She hid from her lord in the old oak chest;

It closed with a spring, and her bridal bloom

Lay withering there in a lonely tomb.