Enchanting Dreams and Sweet Whispers from the Elfin Grotto

She found me roots of relish sweet, And honey wild, and manna-dew, And sure in language strange she said— ‘I love thee true’. She took me to her Elfin grot, And there she wept and sighed full sore, And there I shut her wild, wild eyes With kisses four. And there she lullèd me asleep, And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!— The latest dream I ever dreamt On the cold hill side