So if I don't insert a moral distich Once in a while, I can't be realistic;-- And in this tale, I solemnly aver, My one wish is to tell things as they were! But not _all_ things; time flies, and art is long, And I must hurry onward with my song.) How Elfinhart at last told what she wanted, And what the fairies said, please take for granted. She prayed, they yielded; Elfinhart full loth To leave, as they to let her go, but both Agreeing that this bitter thing must be; For they were fairies, and a mortal she. But ere they yielded, they made imposition Of what then seemed to her a light condition. 'Twas done in kindness, be it understood, With fairy foresight for the maiden's good. The elf-queen spoke for all: "Dear Elfinhart, We bind you to one promise ere we part. We fear naught from men's malice; hate and wrath And every evil thing will shun your path, And sunshine will go with you when you move; The only danger that we dread is love. If in the after days, when suitors woo you, Your heart makes choice of one, as dearest to you, Before you put your hand in his and own The sacred trust reserved for him alone, Let us make trial of him, and approve His virtue, and his manhood, and his love. Send him to us; and if he bears the test, And if we find him worthy to be blest With love like yours, be sure we will befriend him; And may a life-long happiness attend him! But if he prove a traitor, or faint-hearted, Or if his love and he are lightly parted, In the deep willow-woods he shall remain, And never look upon your face again!" The maiden, fancy-free, was well content, And with light laughter gave her full consent; For when maids think of love (as maidens do) It seems a far-off thing; and well she knew Her lover, if she loved, would be both brave and true! Not long thereafter came an errant band Riding along the edge of Fairyland,-- Stout men-at-arms, without reproach or spot, And in the lead the bold Sir Launcelot. He, riding on ahead, silent, alone, Was stopped by a beseeching ancient crone Who hobbled to his side, as if in pain, And clutched with palsied fingers at his rein. And there behind her, from the leafage green, The sweetest eyes his eyes had ever seen Were gazing at him with wide wonderment, Nor bold nor fearful; innocence unshent Shone from their blue depths, and old dreams awoke In Launcelot's breast, while thus the beldame spoke: "A boon, a boon, Sir Launcelot of the Lake! I Pray you of your courtesy to take This damsel to the King. Her enemies Have spoiled her of her birthright, and she flees An innocent outcast from her wasted lands, To lay her life and fortune in his hands." She spoke, and vanished in the woodland shade.