He stepped o’er benches one and two; “Oh! lovely maid, I die for you!” He stepped o’er benches two and three; “Oh! lovely maiden, go with me!”

Then sweet she smiled, the lovely maid, And while she gave her hand, she said, “Betide me joy, betide me woe, O’er hill, o’er dale, with thee I go.”

The priest their hands together joins: They dance, while clear the moonbeam shines; And little thinks the maiden bright, Her partner is the water-spright.

Oh! had some spirit deigned to sing, “Your partner is the Water-King!” The maid had fear and hate confest, And cursed the hand which then she pressed.

But nothing giving cause to think, How near she strayed to danger’s brink, Still on she went, and hand in hand The lovers reached the yellow sand.