Silver, Silver: Come Further In

Braiding her fingers with silver,
She sat in the middle of a sward long,
And raised her voice, as she sat,
Into the middle of a sweet song:

There was a lass who went hunting,
All of a morning in May.
And her bridle and her bells were silver,
And this is what she would say:

'Twas a silver queen in a castle high,
With silver hair and eyes of gold,
And each morning to the sun on the snow,
She would sing in a voice so cold:

There was a girl who dwelled in the wind,
Made her voice and body one.
And by the water's silver mirror,
Her voice would leap and run:

Silver, silver, come further in,
Make me no longer the dweller of wind.
Make me no longer the dweller of wind,
Silver, silver, come further in.

Silver, silver, came further in,
Let her body and voice ripple the stream,
Gave her a body and voice of silver,
Faint and insubstantial as a dream:

Sang the queen in her castle high,
Silver hair and eyes of gold.
A little longer, and those golden eyes
Melted her voice so cold:

Sang the lass in her hunting woods,
All in a morning in May.
The silver shook from her bridle and bells,
And her sad song fell further away:

Sang the girl in the center of the sward,
Threading silver through her fingers.
Silver, silver, come further in;
Still her song yet lingers.