She stood beside her sire, the king,
And heard the silvery music ring,
And watched the white horse, o'er the
Sweep round, and round, and round again
Until the old wife slacked his pace
Before the princess' wondering face,
Then snatched her up before they knew,
Silver bells are ringing;
And with her from their vision flew,
Silver bells are ringing.
The nobles to their saddles spring
And follow, headed by the king!
But, when they reach it, it is gone
The white dew falls, the sun is set,
And no trace of the princess yet.
They gallop over meadows green;
They leap the bars that lie between;
Original
Thro' the cool woodland ride they now,
'Neath rustling branches, bending low;
The silver music draws them
Along the beams of moonlight pale,
Silver bells are ringing;
In violet shadows in the vale,
Silver bells are ringing.
"Return with us, oh, gracious king!
This search is but a bootless thing.
A spell is laid upon our minds,
Our thoughts are tossed as by the winds,
And deeper o'er our senses swells
The music of those silver bells!
Return, oh, king, ere 'tis
late;
The Wise Man by the
palace gate
Will give to thee his
kindly aid,
So shalt thou find the
royal maid."
They galloped back o'er hill and dale,
Silver bells are ringing;
In soft gusts came the southern gale,
Silver bells are ringing.
The trembling king knelt down before
The Wise Man at the palace-door:
"Oh, Wise Man! art thou truly wise—
Find out my child with thy bright eyes!"
"Thy daughter clings to carven stone,
White dove-wings from her shoulders
grown;
In downy dove-plumes is she drest;
They shine like jewels on her breast;
She sits beneath the minster eaves,
Amongst the clustering ivy leaves."
"She was so full of angel-love,"
Silver bells are ringing;
"They could but make her a white dove,"
Silver bells are ringing.
The king stood 'neath the minster wall,
And loudly on his child did call.
A snow-white dove beneath the eaves,
Looked down from 'mongst the ivy leaves,
Then flew down to the monarch's breast,
And, sorely panting, there did rest.
Then spake the Wise Man by his side:
"Oh, king, canst thou subdue thy pride,
And hang thy crown beneath the eaves,
Amongst the clustering ivy leaves
"In thine unhappy daughter's place?"
Silver bells are ringing;
"For thus she'll find her maiden grace,"
Silver bells are ringing.
The jewels in the royal
crown,
Out from the dark
green ivy shone!
The white dove softly
folds her wings,
Then lightly to the ground
she springs—
A princess, sweeter than before,
For being a white dove an hour.
They went home through the happy town,
The king forgot his royal crown,
And soon, beneath the minster eaves,
'Twas hidden by the ivy leaves.
A-BERRYING.
