Читать книгу The Mythology of Fairies - Thomas Keightley - Страница 21

Sir Olof he rode out at early day,

And so came he unto an Elve-dance gay.

The dance it goes well,

So well in the grove.

The Elve-father reached out his white hand free,

"Come, come, Sir Olof, tread the dance with me."

The dance it goes well,

So well in the grove.

"O nought I will, and nought I may,

To-morrow will be my wedding-day."

The dance it goes well,

So well in the grove.

And the Elve-mother reached out her white hand free,

"Come, come, Sir Olof, tread the dance with me."

The dance it goes well,

So well in the grove.

"O nought I will, and nought I may,

To-morrow will be my wedding-day."

The dance it goes well,

So well in the grove.

And the Elve-sister reached out her white hand free,

"Come, come, Sir Olof, tread the dance with me."

The dance it goes well,

So well in the grove.

"O nought I will, and nought I may,

To-morrow will be my wedding-day."

The dance it goes well,

So well in the grove.

And the bride she spake with her bride-maids so,

"What may it mean that the bells thus go?"

The dance it goes well,

So well in the grove.

"'Tis the custom of this our isle," they replied;

"Each young swain ringeth home his bride."

The dance it goes well,

So well in the grove.

"And the truth from you to conceal I fear,

Sir Olof is dead, and lies on his bier."

The dance it goes well,

So well in the grove.

And on the morrow, ere light was the day,

In Sir Olof's house three corpses lay.

The dance it goes well,

So well in the grove.

It was Sir Olof, his bonny bride,

And eke his mother, of sorrow she died.

The dance it goes well,

So well in the grove.137