The fairy woman maketh moan,
'Well-a-day, and well-a-day,
Forsooth I brought thee one rose, one,
And thou didst cast my rose away.'
Hark! Oh hark, she mourneth yet,
'One good ship—the good ship sailed,
One bright star, at last it set,
One, one chance, forsooth it failed.'

Clear thy dusk hair from thy veiled eyes,
Show thy face as thee beseems,
For yet is starlight in the skies,
Weird woman piteous through my dreams.
'Nay,' she mourns, 'forsooth not now,
Veiled I sit for evermore,
Rose is shed, and charm?prow
Shall not touch the charm?shore.'

There thy sons that were to be,
Thy small gamesome children play;
There all loves that men foresee
Straight as wands enrich the way.
Dove-eyed, fair, with me they worm
Where enthroned I reign a queen,
In the lovely realms foregone,
In the lives that might have been.