So, on and on went Gerda, And downward through the night. At length in maze of passages That led to left and right, The stony staircase ended; And, searching in the dark, She wandered hither, thither: The elf-land, where? But hark! What sound was that? She listened. A moaning somewhere near! Again, again, a moaning! She fled away in fear. From right to left she hurried; She hurried to and fro; She called: “O good nurse Hedvig, Come to me here below!” Came never word of answer. She could not find the way. In terror trembling, sobbing, Still onward did she stray. “Who weeps?” Again she listened. The voice was low and kind. “’Tis I—’tis Princess Gerda; The way I cannot find.” “Fear not, O Princess Gerda! If thou wilt turn the key, How gladly will I offer To be a guide for thee.” Her little fingers feeling The slimy stones along, Found out the door of iron— The iron door so strong: And standing there on tip-toe, With all her might and main, She, reaching, tried the rusty key, But tried and tried in vain. “Once more, once more, O Princess!” At that she tried once more; The hinges grated harshly, And open flew the door; And one came forth whose features And form she could not see For the deep darkness round her; But never aught cared she, Because the voice was pleasant And drove away all fear— The voice that softly questioned, “How happened Gerda here?” “Down, down the longest stairway That ever yet was found, I came to hunt for fairies That dwell beneath the ground.” “Now tell me, sweetest Gerda, If I will show the way, And lead thee from the darkness Far up into the day, Wilt never of thy venture, Nor ever of thy guide, To any speak? Wilt promise?” She eagerly replied, “Oh, yes, yes, yes! I promise!” And, hand in hand, the two The dank and dismal corridors Went searching through and through. A narrow length of passage, Low-ceiled, at last they gained, And midway in this passage A narrow doorway framed; And winding from this doorway Stone steps, a narrow flight, They found and followed—followed Far up out of the night. But when the little Gerda, Safe in the dim old room, That now seemed full of sunlight After the greater gloom— When quick she turned to see him Who led—the pictured wall, The overhanging tapestry She saw—and that was all. And many days she marveled, And many nights did dream Of that good guide and gentle, Who came and went unseen. But never more the stairway, So long and dark, she tried. She told not of her venture, She told not of her guide.