What comely lass, this elven girl,
a living gem, expensive pearl.
Who clung with manacles to me,
a mighty and a wise old tree.
In forest deep she rang her bell,
and I was lost, in Elvenfell,
a place of wishes, not defeat.
A land of love, a rhythmic beat.
She walked alone, this comely queen.
Her song so loud. Her face serene.
And I, a spirit, shook my boughs,
and droplets fell on her like clouds
so that to her it seemed like rain.
Like spring had come, and summer wained
it's last bright ray. It's final heat.
And she stood there. On softest feet.
Oh lady fair, where from you came?!
I cried, but fear her heart retained
and almost she fled fast away
but in my roots I begged her stay.
She came to me, her fear assuaged
and touched my bark, my skin so aged
yet her soft touch made me feel young
so to her heart I surely clung.
And so she stayed, my elven maid.
Held to my girth, in love she stayed.
She lived with me. Lived in my core.
She lingered here forever more.