The Mythology of Fairies. Thomas Keightley

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СКАЧАТЬ all as she goes, and all as she stays,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       All the nearer she comes where the high hill lay,

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      So she goeth around the hill compassing,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       So there openeth a door, and thereat goes she in,

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      Proud Margaret stept in at the door of the hill,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       And the hill-king salutes her with eyes joyfúl,

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      So he took the maiden upon his knee,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       And took the gold rings and therewith her wed he,

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      So he took the maiden his arms between,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       He gave her a gold crown and the name of queen,

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      So she was in the hill for eight round years,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       There bare she two sons and a daughter so fair,

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      When she had been full eight years there,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       She wished to go home to her mother so dear,

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      And the hill-king spake to his footpages twain,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       "Put ye the gray paeers now unto the wain,"167 But that grief is heavy I know.

      And Margaret out at the hill-door stept,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       And her little children they thereat wept,

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      And the hill-king her in his arms has ta'en.

       Time with me goes slow.—

       So he lifteth her into the gilded wain,

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      "And hear now thou footpage what I unto thee say,"

       Time with me goes slow.—

       "Thou now shalt drive her to her mother's straightway,"

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      Proud Margaret stept in o'er the door-sill,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       And her mother saluteth her with eyes joyfúl,

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      "And where hast thou so long stayed?"

       Time with me goes slow.—

       "I have been in the flowery meads,"

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      "What veil is that thou wearest on thy hair?"

       Time with me goes slow.—

       "Such as women and mothers use to wear,"

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      "Well may I wear a veil on my head,"

       Time with me goes slow.—

       "Me hath the hill-king both wooed and wed,"

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      "In the hill have I been these eight round years,"

       Time with me goes slow.—

       "There have I two sons and a daughter so fair,"

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      "There have I two sons and a daughter so fair,"

       Time with me goes slow.—

       "The loveliest maiden the world doth bear,"

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      "And hear thou, proud Margaret, what I say unto thee,"

       Time with me goes slow.—

       "Can I go with thee home thy children to see?"

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      And the hill-king stept now in at the door,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       And Margaret thereat fell down on the floor,

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      "And stayest thou now here complaining of me,"

       Time with me goes slow.—

       "Camest thou not of thyself into the hill to me?"

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      "And stayest thou now here and thy fate dost deplore?"

       Time with me goes slow.—

       "Camest thou not of thyself in at my door?"

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      The hill-king struck her on the cheek rosie,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       "And pack to the hill to thy children wee,"

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      The hill-king struck her with a twisted root,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       "And pack to the hill without any dispute,"

       But that grief is heavy I know.

      And the hill-king her in his arms has ta'en,

       Time with me goes slow.—

       And СКАЧАТЬ