The Faerie Lover

It is by yonder thorn that I saw the faerie host

{O'low night wind, O'wind of the west}

My love rode by, there was gold upon his brow,

And since that day I neither eat nor rest.




I dare not pray lest I should forget his face

{O'black north wind blowing cold beneath the sky!}

His face and his eyes shine between me and the sun:

If I may not be with him I would rather die.




They tell me I am cursed and I will lose my soul,

{O'red wind shrieking o're the thorn-grown dun!}

But he is my love and I go to him to-night,

Who rides when the thorn glistens white beneath the moon.




He will call my name and lift me near his breast,

{Blow soft O wind 'neath the stars of the south}

I care not for heaven and I fear not hell

If I have but the kisses of his proud red mouth.