And Sibyl she whispered to Christobel,
And she into Mildred's ear;
But what that was no tongue might tell,
For there was none to hear.
"What makes ye laugh?" cries Lillyfair,
As she comes tripping ben;
"Oh do come tell, dear Christobel,
For I am fidging fain."
"Oh this is the night, my sister dear.
When the wind is low and loun,
That we are to go in a merry row
To see the eclipse of the moon.
"And thou'lt go with us, Lillyfair,
And see this goodly show—
The moon in the meer reflected clear,
With the shadow upon her brow."
"Oh yes, I will go," Lillyfair rejoined;
And glad in her heart was she,
For seldom before had her sisters deigned
To give her their companie.
'Twas the hour o' twell by Ballogie's bell,
When each with her mantle and hood,
They all sallied out in a merry rout,
Away through the still greenwood.
Shine out, shine out, thou silvery maid,
And light them to the place;
But long ere all this play be played,
In sorrow thou'lt hide thy face.
No shadow of this earth ever can
A murkier darkness throw,
Than what from the sin of cruel man
May be cast on thy silvery brow.
The greenwood through, the greenwood through,
Ho! there is Ballogie's meer;
And deep within its breast they view
The moon's face shining clear.
And down they bent, and forward leant—
Loud laughed the sisters three,
As Lillyfair threw back her hair,
Yet could no shadow see.