I'll tell the story, kissing This white hand for my pains: No sweeter heart, nor falser, E'er filled such fine, blue veins. I'll sing a song of true love, My Lilith, dear! to you; Contraria contrariis— The rule is old and true. The happiest of all lovers Was Ernst of Edelsheim; And why he was the happiest, I'll tell you in my rhyme. One summer night he wandered Within a lonely glade, And, couched in moss and moonlight, He found a sleeping maid. The stars of midnight sifted Above her sands of gold; She seemed a slumbering statue, So fair and white and cold. Fair and white and cold she lay Beneath the starry skies; Rosy was her waking Beneath the Ritter's eyes. He won her drowsy fancy, He bore her to his towers, And swift with love and laughter Flew morning's purpled hours. But when the thickening sunbeams Had drunk the gleaming dew, A misty cloud of sorrow Swept o'er her eyes' deep blue. She hung upon the Ritter's neck, She wept with love and pain, She showered her sweet, warm kisses Like fragrant summer rain. "I am no Christian soul," she sobbed, As in his arms she lay; "I'm half the day a woman, A serpent half the day. "And when from yonder bell-tower Rings out the noonday chime, Farewell! farewell for ever, Sir Ernst of Edelsheim!" "Ah! not farewell for ever!" The Ritter wildly cried; "I will be saved or lost with thee, My lovely Wili-Bride!" Loud from the lordly bell-tower Rang out the noon of day, And from the bower of roses A serpent slid away. But when the mid-watch moonlight Was shimmering through the grove, He clasped his bride thrice dowered With beauty and with love. The happiest of all lovers Was Ernst of Edelsheim— His true love was a serpent Only half the time!
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