And then she stooped to his quivering lip,
Imprinting a dainty kiss.
"Why don't you get up out of that?" she cried,
And make no longer stay.
But a spirit within, still held him down,
In a magical sort of way.
"O troubadour, you're a suitable man,
To live in the woods with me,
We'll dance to the charms of elphin song,
Down under the greenwood tree."