New Spring, 32

Through the forest, in the moonlight,
I the elves saw riding proudly;
And I heard their trumpets sounding,
And I hear their bells ring loudly.

Their white horses had upon them
Golden staghorns, whilst proceeding
Swiftly on--like flights of wild swans
Through the air the train was speeding.

Smilingly the queen bent tow’rds me,
Smiling, as the band rode by me;
Is’t a sign that new love’s coming,
Or a sign that death is nigh me?