The Erl King

Who is it that rides thro' the forest so fast,

Whilst night glooms around him, whilst chill roars the blast;

The Father who holds his young Son in his arm,

And close in his mantle has wrapt him up warm.

Why trembles my darling, why shrinks he with fear?

My Father, my Father, the Erl King is near,

The Erl King with his Crown and his beard long and white.

My Child, you're deceiv'd by the vapours of night.

If thou wilt, dear Baby, with me go away,

I'll give thee fine garments, we'll play a fine play;

Fine flowers are growing, white, scarlet and blue,

On the banks of yon river, and all are for you.

My Father, my Father, and dost thou not hear,

What words the Erl King whispers soft in my ear?

O hush thee, my Child, set thy bosom at ease,

Thou hear'st but the willows when murmurs the breeze.

If thou wilt, dear Baby, with me go away,

My daughter shall nurse thee so fair and so gay;

My daughter, in purple and gold who is drest,

Shall love thee and kiss thee and sing thee to rest.

My Father, my Father, and dost thou not see

The Erl King and his Daughter are waiting for me!

O shame thee, my Infant, 'tis fear makes thee blind,

Thou see'st the dark willows which wave in the wind.

I love thee, I doat on thy features so fine,

I must and will have thee, and force makes thee mine.

My Father, my Father, o hold me now fast,

He pulls me, he hurts me, he'll have me at last.

The Father, he trembled, he doubled his speed,

O'er hills and through forests he spurr'd his black steed:

But when he arriv'd at his own Castle door,

Life throbb'd in the poor Baby's bosom no more.