Beryl-green was the lonely water;
Sweet of mien, the Woodman’s Daughter
Cast the clue that the Gray Witch gave,
And softly sang the magic stave:
“Fountain-goblins, water-pixies,
Round-eyed sons of the web-foot nixes,
“Leave your caves and bring me up
Wizard Merlin’s Magic Cup!”
The glimmering deeps of the pool were troubled,
Ripple-ringed, the water bubbled;
Wriggling, twisting, rose the six
Wry-mouthed sons of the Water Nix,
Clear from the weed-hung caves below,
With a “Hee, hee, hee!” and a “Ho, ho, ho!”
Chuckling mingled mirth and malice,
Lifting high the crystal chalice.
“Take the Magic Cup!” they laughed;
“Drink the single magic draft!
“Beauty, riches, health, or power—
What you wish shall be your dower;
“Wish, and quaff, and have!—but know,
When once drained, the cup will go!”
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Sank the nixes, calmed the water;
Wonder-eyed, the Woodman’s Daughter
Clasped the cup and fled away,
Through the Woods of Yesterday.
“Cup,” she sang, “of crystal rarest,
I shall wish to be the fairest
“Ever mortal eye did see;
Then the Prince will marry me!”
Then—she saw before her lying
Prone, a wounded hunter, dying.
Swift, his head she lifted up;
To his lips she pressed the cup.
“Drink!” implored the Woodman’s Daughter;
“Give him life, O Magic Water!”
Lo! within that ancient wood,
Strong, and young, and brave he stood!
******
Gone is the cup to the deep green water;
But, before the Woodman’s Daughter,
Bending low to kiss her hand,
Kneels the Prince of Fairyland!
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