And from his horse's sides ran down.
The evening had now come on,
And he came where a streamlet flowed
Fast by a Korrigan's abode;
And grassy turf spread all around.
To quench his thirst he sprang to ground.
The Korrig at her fount sat there
A-combing of her long fair hair.
She combed it with a comb of gold—
These ladies ne'er are poor, we're told.
"Rash man," cried she, "how dost thou dare
To come disturb my waters fair!
"Thou shalt unto me plight thy fay,
Or seven years thou shalt waste away,
Or thou shalt die ere the third day."
"To thee my faith plight will I ne'er,
For I am married now a year.
"I shall not surely waste away,
Nor shall I die ere the third day;
"I shall not die within three days,
But when it unto God shall please."—