The squirrel's granry is full.

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd the harvest's done

I see a lily on they brow

With anguish moist and fever dew;

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd on they cheek a fading rose

Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads,

Full beautiful - afaery's child

Her hair was long, her foot was light,

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd her eyes were wild

I made a garland for her head,

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd bracelets too and fragrant zone

She look'd at me as she did love,

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd made a sweet moan

I set her on my pacing steed,

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd nothing else saw all day long,

For side ways would she lean, and sing

صلى الله عليه وسلم faery's Song

She found me roots of relish sweet,

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd honey wild, and mana dew;

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd sure in language strange she said I love thee true

She took me in her elfin grot,

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd there she gazed and sighed full sore,

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd there I shut her wild wild eyes

With kisses four.

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd there she lulled me asleep,

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd there I dream'd-ah! woe betide!

The latest dream I ever dream'd

On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;

They cried - «la رضي الله عنهelle عز وجلame sans merci

Thee hath in thrall! »

I saw their starv'd lips in the gloam,

With horrid warning gaped wide,

صلى الله عليه وسلمnd I awoke, and found me here,

On the cold hill side ..