Caprice - The Last Ship

Firiel looked out at three o'clock:
the grey night was going;
far away a golden cock
clear and shrill was crowing.
The trees were dark, and the dawn pale,
waking birds were cheeping,
a wind moved cool and frail
through dim leaves creeping.

She watched the gleam at window grow,
till the long light was shimmering
on land and leaf; on grass below
grey dew was glimmering.

Over the floor her white feet crept,
down the stair they twinkled,
through the grass they dancing stepped
all with dew besprinkled.

Her gown had jewels upon its hem,
as she ran down to the river,
and leaned upon a willow-stem,
and watched the water quiver.

A kingfisher plunged down like a stone
in a blue flash falling,
bending reeds were softly blown,
lily-leaves were sprawling.

A sudden music to her came,
as she stood there gleaming
with fair hair in the morning's flame
on her shoulders streaming.

Flutes were there, and harps were wrung,
and there was sound of singing,
like wind-voices keen and young
and far bells ringing.

With harp in hand they sang their song
to the slow oars swinging;

'Green is the land the leaves are long,
and the birds are singing.
Many a day with dawn of gold
this earth will lighten,
many a flower will yet unfold,
ere the cornfields whiten.

'Then whither go ye, boatmen fair,
down the river gliding?
To twilight and to secret lair
in the great forest hiding?

To Northern isles and shores of stone
on strong swans flying,
by cold waves to dwell alone
with the white gulls crying?'

The oars were stayed. They turned aside:
'Do you hear the call, Earth-maiden?
Firiel! Firiel!' they cried,
'Our ship is not full-laden.

One more only we may bear.
Come! For your days are speeding.
Come! Earth-maiden elven-fair,
our last call heeding.'

Firiel looked from the river-bank,
one step daring;
then deep in clay her feet sank,
and she halted staring.

She donned her smock of russet brown,
her long hair braided,
and to her work came stepping down.
Soon the sunlight faded.

But the tide of time turned, and to her amazement Firiel found herself thousands of years later, at the beginning of 21st century, in the world parallel to ours. And beautiful faeries, The Uninvited, the descendants of Mirkwood Elves, now called the fair folk of Laoris, found Firiel and, singing sweetly, welcomed her to join their dance. And they sang:
Kelis, Firiel
Kelis, Firiel
Kelis, Firiel
Firiel
Firiel
Firiel.