They flee to the shades where the wood spirits dream,
And sink to repose by the moonlight's fair beam,
Like the babe by its mother's soft smile lulled to rest.
And here does the tall warrior stand,
With the maiden he loves by his side!
He tells her to list while the fairies do quaff
Their cupful, and shout, and then wildly laugh,
For they know that she leans on his love like a staff,
Which will ever support her in life's changing tide.
'Twould be well, did ye weep, waters bright!