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Gordi Turnbull Mar 2012
Fair Maiden is beautiful and blonde,
And of knights she is quite fond.
A Round Table groupie is she,
Seeking heroes where'er they may be.

Tall and striking with eyes so blue,
Dressed in a gown of a golden hue,
She dashes around the countryside
Hunting knights far and wide.

Searching the world for good deeds to do,
For a maiden to save or a dragon or two,
Those chivalrous men, so noble and true,
Are tired of that girl with her eyes so blue.

Fearless and daring are those armour clad men,
But they're tired of seeing her again and again.
They want her to leave, they want her to go,
That maiden who chases them to and fro.

To get her to quit, to stop her fixation,
To rid the country and the rest of the nation
Of that small, wee girl with her eyes so blue,
Those knights have a plan to bid her adieu.

They've taken a vote and decided, to a man,
To get rid of that blonde Round Table fan.
They'll tie her to a stake and offer her up
As a sacrifice to the dragon, Hiccup.

"He can have her," they rise up and shout,
"For breakfast he can munch on that gadabout.
That fire breathing dragon loves beautiful girls,
Especially ones with blue eyes and curls."

What murderous thoughts for such valiant men
To send that poor girl to the dragon's den.
But the knights have reached the end of their rope.
With Fair Maiden they can no longer cope.

They seized that maiden, that damsel so fair,
And rode with all speed to the dragon's lair.
Those tall, strong men with blades of steel
Were determined to give that monster a meal.

They tied the young woman to a sturdy stake
As she cried, "Don't go, you've made a mistake.
Come back," said she, "Don't leave me alone,"
And she uttered a cry and issued a moan.

As he heard the dragon give a terrible roar
One brave knight could stand it no more.
He raced to the lair on the back of his steed
To try and save her ere the beast could feed.

That fire breathing dragon, the one called Hiccup,
Could smell his dinner. It was time to sup.
Extending his head out of that cave,
He looked 'round and saw one lone knave.

The beast started huffing and puffing away
And blowing smoke to scare his prey.
The knight took one look and decided to run
Before he was cooked like an overdone bun.

"Sorry, Milady," he cried as he ran from the scene,
"I'm not very brave and that dragon is mean.
Chivalry is all well and good," said he,
"But not if it means the end of me!"

"Tut tut," said the maid, "Tut tut," said she,
"Chicken a la king, that's what I'll call thee!
You deserve to become that dragon's dinner,
Shame on you, you're no winner!"

Those knights of the realm, those stout hearted men,
Abandoned that lass to the beast in his den.
The lady screamed loud as the dragon drew near
And that brave knight so bold fled in fear.

"Even that lizard is better than you.
He's not a coward, I'll give him his due,"
Said that fair maid with her eyes so blue
All dressed in a gown of a golden hue.

Fair Maiden awaited with bated breath
For Hiccup to come and put her to death.
Tied to that pole she had no recourse
But to be that monster's main course.

A surprise was in store for our fair maid.
She had no reason to be so afraid,
That scaly beast was as gentle as a kitten
Because with the lass he was truly smitten.

That fire breathing dragon was very irate
To see Fair Maiden in such a cruel state.
He exploded with rage at her sorry plight
When he saw that rogue riding out of sight.

Throwing back his head and with a terrible cry,
He blew and he blew and let those flames fly.
That knight of the realm, riding so fast,
Was scorched by the awful power of that blast.

"There," said Hiccup, "take that you knave.
Shame on you.  What a way to behave.
You shouldn't abuse beautiful girls,
Especially ones with blue eyes and curls."

Turning around on the tip of his tail
And holding his breath so he wouldn't exhale,
He freed that poor maid who was tied so tight,
The one they had left for his supper that night.

"Thank you, kind sir," said the beautiful miss
As she stood on tiptoes and gave him a kiss.
"You're welcome," said Hiccup standing up tall,
And he blushed a bright red, "It was nothing at all."

"I think you're sweet, I think you're swell,"
The dragon declared to the modest young belle.
"To keep you safe from those faint hearted men,
I would like you to stay in my humble den."

"You're very gallant, Mr. Dragon," said she.
"You're chivalrous and kind and I like thee.
To give you a hand and your kindness repay
I will live in your cave for a year and a day."

"During that time I'll keep your den clean
And make it sparkle with a glistening sheen,"
Said the maid as she looked with trepidation
At the messy state of the dragon's habitation.

"Looking after me will be quite a job,"
Said the beast.  "I've become such a slob.
But I'll try to reform my slovenly ways,
The ones I learned in my bachelor days."

So the two lived together in the monster's den,
Just the fire breathing dragon and the fair maiden.
She kept his home tidy during the whole of her stay,
But soon came the end of that year and a day.

A Round Table groupie was the maiden so fair,
But now she fancies that dragon in his lair.
Instead of harassing those knights of the Round,
She's decided that dragons are nice to be around.

That monster doesn't need a groupie or a fan.
He's decided he liked his life as a bachelor 'man'.
He thought she's be sweet, but instead she's a pain,
And his love which was strong, is now on the wane.

He's tired of her nagging and her bossy attitude,
And she calls him silly names like sweetie and dude.
He's anxious to be rid of that girl with eyes so blue,
The one that's dressed in a gown of a golden hue.

The poor dragon's desperate to have her depart
Because now he's sure she's a cheap little ****.
He wants her to leave, he wants her to go,
That maiden who chases him to and fro.

Now he knows why those knights, to a man,
Took a vote to get rid of that Round Table fan.
That maiden who followed them here and there
Was more than those armour clad men could bear.

He thinks and he thinks and comes up with a plan,
Something he should have done when all this began.
"I'll just have to dine," said the dragon, Hiccup,
"To get rid of that vexing maid, I'll eat her up!"

The moral of this story is quite plain to see.
When you spot a knight, don't stop, just flee,
And be careful of dragons who offer you a deal
Because sooner or later you'll end up a meal!
The Fairy Tale of the Warrior Prince

Once upon a time, long, long ago, far, far away there lived a Warrior Prince at the edge of the Magic Forest. The Warrior Prince once rescued the fair maiden Shelby and the fair lady Di, Shelby’s grams, from the Evil Mystical Wizard who lived on the far side of the magic forest. After settling the fair maiden and the fair lady into his castle where they would remain safe until his return, he set out to do his one and only job; guard and protect the magic forest.
He liked guarding the forest during the day because it was quiet and peaceful. But in the dark night, the great magic came to life and even his trusty horse became on edge. The bushes and trees took on eerie shapes that seemed to move. The night noises were loud and frightening. It was not like the beautiful forest noises of the day. At night the trees became witches and the bushes became trolls and animals. They would claw and scratch at his legs as he rode his horse through the forest.
It was at night when the largest magical creature appeared. It wanted to take over the magic forest. That creature’s whole purpose was to steal all the magic from the Magic Forest. The creature had been made that way by the Evil Mystical Wizard who wanted all the magic in the land for himself. That is why he kidnapped the fair maiden Shelby and the fair lady Di in the first place. He knew of their magical powers. The fair lady Di had the magic of touch. She could feel if she knew a person from another time and if they were good or evil by the touch of their hand or by looking into their eyes. She could see if love had ever found a home in their heart. The fair maiden Shelby had the greatest magic of all; the magic of sight. She could see into a person, see their life and what was to come. These magical powers coupled with the powers of the forest would make the Evil Mystical Wizard unstoppable.
The warrior prince had no magical powers of his own but was highly respected by the magical world because of his willingness and ability to protect them. He thought of them as family and would fight to the death for them. The love in his heart was a pure light of goodness. He knew if the Evil Mystical Wizard took over all the good magic in the world, everyone he loved would suffer greatly to the end of days. He pledged to fight for them to the end because of his love for them. It was his greatest power.
One night as he rode his beautiful horse through the magical forest, he heard the fair lady Di cry out in grief. Riding toward the sounds of her cries, his heart sank with the visions that flooded his mind. The fair lady Di had been restless and not able to sleep so, as many nights like this before, she went for a walk in the magic forest. The forest had always been a place of calm for her. It was a place where the hurts of the world would quiet and fade away. She could feel the love of the magical world around her. She could still the fears in her heart.
On this night as she walked along the forest floor she came upon a beautiful unicorn. It was waiting to bless her with his own magic of love. As they stood and stared at each other, she could feel the magic of his love flow into her heart and settle deep into her soul. She knew he was giving her his magic of love but didn’t understand why. When the transfer ended, she stood in awe as he bowed his head and told her, “You are the keeper of love. You always have been and always will be. My time is ending and my magic needs to live on. It will live in you and you will do great things with it.” Fair lady Di started to ask, “Why me?”… when the wind started to blow.
The clouds moved across the moon and lightning struck a tree somewhere deep in the forest. Just as the moon peaked around a cloud the thunder crashed and the creature was standing in front of them. The fair maiden Shelby was in her bed and could only sit up in fear as she watched the sight play out before her eyes. She saw the creature inch closer to her grams saying the words “Love must die.”
The fair maiden Shelby could only do one thing. She sent her sight to the magic of the forest hoping the forest would see that if love died, the world died too. As she watched, she saw two small magical creatures of the forest pull her grams back and away from the fight that played out before her. The creature moved forward and the fair lady Di thought her night would end. She closed her eyes and felt the wind blow through her. She let go ready to float away to a world without pain. As the crashing noises grew louder and the wind blew harder, she felt unknown hands pull her to safety.
The fair lady Di opened her eyes and watched as the unicorn fought with everything he had to save her from the terrible creature of magic who only sought to end love, to end her. The fight was long and hard but in the end, the beautiful unicorn stood no chance against the powers and strength of the terrible creature of magic. As the unicorn fell to the ground and his breathing slowed, the fair lady Di ran to him. All the creatures of the forest tried to stop her but she pushed them away. She had so much love for him and needed him to only feel love as he floated away to that world where there was no pain.
As she reached him she laid her body across his and poured out every ounce of love. Through her grief and pain, she gave love as his last breath left him. She cried. The wind blew, lightning flashed across the sky and the thunder crashed high in the heavens. Just then, the Warrior Prince came through the forest walls into the small opening of the forest center. He pulled his horse to a sudden stop at the sight in front of him. His blood began to boil. There was the Magic Dragon with a cruel evil grin on his face. He stood over the fair lady Di with her face buried in the mane of the lifeless unicorn. She was crying and pouring all the love she could into him.
The fair maiden Shelby watched with her inner sight and knew what she must do to save them all. She emptied her sight to the whole magical world and focused it into the center of the Warrior Prince. She showed him all the good he had ever done for the ones he called family and those he loved so dearly. Through the magical world he touched in so many ways, she showed him their respect for him, their gratitude for all that he had done for them and their unconditional love for him. Through her sight, he found the strength to fight the greatest fight of his life: The fight against the Magic Dragon who was there to destroy them all.
The Warrior Prince wasted no time as he pulled out his sword of courage and truth. He fought long and hard but, even close to death himself, he would not give up. With each swing of his sword the evil he so feared died a little more. Swing after swing until he pierced the heart of the great beast. Upon the death of the beast, the magic of the world returned the magic of the fair maiden Shelby to her. The magical world knew only one willing to give up her powers to save those she loved could be trusted with such power.
Very battered and bleeding, The Warrior Prince walked over to the fair lady Di, held her close and let her pour her grief and pain into his heart and soul. When she calmed, he lifted her onto his horse and brought her back to the castle where the fair maiden Shelby waited for their return.
When the Warrior Prince slayed the Magic Dragon and ended the magic that had been instilled within him, it also weakened the Evil Mystical Wizard. For the wizard had given all his power into the dragon and was confident the dragon would succeed in taking over all magic in the world. By the Warrior Prince destroying the dragon, it also ended all and any magic the Evil Mystical Wizard had or ever would have again. The Magic Forest, The Magic of The World, The Magic of The Fair Maiden Shelby and The Magic of The Fair Lady Di was finally safe. The Warrior Prince, he also learned he had a little magic of his own and had only needed to look inside himself to find it.

Writing Copyright © All Rights Reserved
2017 Brianna Love/SA/DBMA
I have gone back and forth on publishing this story, in many ways, it’s very personal.
“The Fairy Tale of the Warrior Prince” was written three months after the death of my dad. My dad was young and though he was a hard man he loved his family and my granddaughter loved her great grandpa so much. This story has many truths in it by the way of story metaphors. My granddaughter, five at the time named all the characters and I used many of her thoughts and feelings. This story was a way for her and me to work through a grief that surrounded us. Each character in the story is real, they each played a part in our grief. I wrote this story because of my love for her and her love for him. When we were walking away from his grave that day, my sweet granddaughter turned around and like on cue every person stepped back to let her have her view. We all witnessed the most amazing and beautiful thing, she turned and said the very words I have always said to her. “Dream Sweet” “I love you grandpa” and then blew him a kiss.  Children’s love is unconditional, pure and the most beautiful love I have seen and felt.

I know this story is long and many don’t like long reads but, a dear friend told me that I would know when I was ready to post it and that’s when I should.
ERA  Mar 2015
Untitled
ERA Mar 2015
I found
Let’s see, a maiden
She is like a deity
A face I see
Untidy
Beautiful and lively.

Yes! With courage
I tried
to confess my love
to the maiden I found.

I will wait…

The curtain rises
together
with the maiden I found
changes.
A maiden with many faces.

The maiden wants this
and that
I am no billionaire
to buy all of that.

Yes! I do confess
my love to the maiden I found
but
there are others I doubt.

I bear with it
together with my friends
but I stopped
I know the maiden
is unworthy of my love.

I am no prince
with gold and rings
I am no genie
to satisfy her needs.

I found
Let’s see, a maiden
tempted with lust
and greed.

I was bewildered
Is this a maiden?
I was deceived
by this beauty,
by this trust
and by this love.

Love is unfair.
It keeps on coming
and coming
and it will never stop.

I found
Let’s see, a dummy
Yes! A dummy.
A deceitful dummy
filled with evil
and lies.
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2013
IN THE POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG

                1

Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks
And dreams the dreamers story he has lived.
Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters
By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown
Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss,
Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps;
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . .
Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount.
Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout,
And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing;
Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.


                2

Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail
And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides
Assail and chop the collected bones they drop;
It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments
Wake and a ******’s salty sermons shake;
Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping,
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the seeker, he is seeking . . .
Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors,
Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria,
Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers,
Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.


                3

Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush,
Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread,
Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true
The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering
Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness
Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside;
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the lover, he is longing . . .
Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes.
Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape.
Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes.
Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.


                4

Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps
And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward
Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto
Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning
Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids,
Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world,
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the doomed, they are crying . . .
“****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis,
Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness.
Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss;
The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”
“The Maiden”

Over her long legs,
Hips sway in a salacious manner,
As she strolls,
Past the gaggle of gentlemen,
Mustering the valor to face,
Their glances varying from curiosity,
To disgust,
Perhaps intrigue as these men,
Behold this exotic form of femininity.

An aura of mystery emanates,
From a tenderly warm demeanor,
Welcoming the viewers,
Who encounter this daughter of Aphrodite,
Capturing attention regardless of,
One’s alleged reasoning.

Intrepid knights receive the blessing,
To witness the hazel windows,
Into a maiden’s soul,
Deeply adorned with unbidden intensity,
Bestowing a small glimpse,
Into a beguiling beauty,
Mistaken as a cozening siren,
To an untrained eye.

Many chaps desire her,
Until revelations bereave these fellows,
Of security interwoven into the fabric,
Of society sewn with fine threads,
Uniting into an existence of conformity.

Some licentious men lunge,
At the maiden,
Gaping at what these fellows,
Observe as a tantalizing goddess,
Desiring to place lascivious hands,
Upon her soft skin.

Misguided stories allow life to be given,
To glaring spectators,
Spewing jeers of rancor,
Bemused as the unknown,
Deftly saunters near,
The valley of Oblivion.

Like the majestic Mona Lisa,
The maiden consists of subtle nuances,
Painting her tributes behind cryptic techniques,
Allowing one to inspect her façade,
Learning her similarities to the wind,
Feeling her spirit,
Rather than glancing upon visual proof.

The souls encountering the maiden,
Gain respite from strangling thoughts,
Placated by her light,
Revealing the contrasts,
The highlights to expose,
An extraordinary beauty,
Manifesting from genuine kindness,
Breaths of generosity,
And irrevocable love of all shades and tints,
Within a painter’s palate.
Daniel A Russ Jul 2010
Maiden, maiden, maiden, a depilidate mobious minaret –
Holical, Eris begs an atlatl defection, the
Genuis-from-Mars technique – an erathicus lecanopteris.
Suffretex, past-perfection in pastel gloxinia,
Glowingly acidic and shiftingly glossidic, it’s cosmaltry mariala;
Ungual outmoded, holonym singing Aquilar rapax as demiurge.
Demos and Phobos weep, coruscating terrathos, killing riva.

Swell quickly, optic ophidia, lest the ira florena rise –
Rise, maiden, rise optic ophidia, ignore Irredelphine!
Strut the hematacolpa and pace-willow, but fail flow:
Deciduous telechir beckons, demanding autobogotic-hajra.
****-venom and picea hovea, eche verri naught echo –
Beta-decay and COBOL error, fandango with teeth
And sing praise for Eucladanic soignè solaris

Sprint quick, maiden-solidago gesparisè, to Misra pourum!
Majerns and hapax, death-knell aloud and encelia,
Enfloranè, haste! Enatic haste tichodrome, flee, anise!
Apios, harken: tryst-sans-thermobic sweeping of thresher-thrown,
Little-low else yet achroma, de-jubilance:
Fall fairly, ayah! So to be so, blanking systemic,
A thousand steps for one death.
Seán Mac Falls Oct 2013
IN THE POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG

                1

Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks
And dreams the dreamers story he has lived.
Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters
By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown
Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss,
Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps;
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . .
Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount.
Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout,
And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing;
Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.


                2

Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail
And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides
Assail and chop the collected bones they drop;
It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments
Wake and a ******’s salty sermons shake;
Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping,
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the seeker, he is seeking . . .
Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors,
Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria,
Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers,
Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.


                3

Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush,
Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread,
Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true
The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering
Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness
Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside;
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the lover, he is longing . . .
Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes.
Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape.
Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes.
Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.


                4

Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps
And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward
Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto
Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning
Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids,
Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world,
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the doomed, they are crying . . .
“****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis,
Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness.
Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss;
The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2013
IN THE POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG

                1

Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks
And dreams the dreamers story he has lived.
Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters
By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown
Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss,
Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps;
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . .
Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount.
Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout,
And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing;
Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.


                2

Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail
And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides
Assail and chop the collected bones they drop;
It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments
Wake and a ******’s salty sermons shake;
Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping,
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the seeker, he is seeking . . .
Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors,
Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria,
Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers,
Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.


                3

Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush,
Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread,
Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true
The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering
Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness
Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside;
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the lover, he is longing . . .
Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes.
Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape.
Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes.
Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.


                4

Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps
And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward
Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto
Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning
Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids,
Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world,
In the pool of the lost maiden song.

And the doomed, they are crying . . .
“****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis,
Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness.
Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss;
The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”
Alan S Jeeves Nov 2021
Fair maiden how I long to be
Out, this day, a-stroll with thee.
Maiden fair come take my hand,
Walk with me 'bout hallowed land.

Look at me, tell what you spy
As you look me in the eye.
Voice your kind words soft and low,
Gift your ethos as we go.

Fair maid embrace me with your soul,
Hear my quandary, pray console;
Help me in my hour of need
Now mine eyes begin to bleed.

Count my blessings one by one,
Steal my infractions, leave me none;
Lead me on like straying sheep,
Gaze on me, my soul to keep.

Fair maiden guide me on my way,
Show your light at break of day.
Play your music in my ear,
Steer me safely lest I veer.

Cause me heed your ardent power,
Strengthen me this very hour.
Hold me upright as we walk
Reveal your secrets as we talk.

Fair maiden, maiden, all I ask,
Recognise behind my mask.
Know the yearning that I long,
Keep me faithful, keep me strong.

Sit with me in silent pose
Let me observe a fragrant rose.
Bloomed, ablaze neath noon-day sun
Till my tangled web is spun.

Fair maiden listen at day's end,
Lay with me - a special friend.
Let your thoughts flit to and fro,
Kiss my face afore I go.

As darkness chills the evening air
Promise me, oh maiden fair;
Pledge that if we part anon...
That you will love me when I'm gone.

— The End —