Haunting was her presence there,
Old yet young, wise yet fair,
And rumor shrouded her lone land,
Which east of the west did there stand.
Her radient glory was that of the sun,
Her eyes, though sad, held the echo of fun
That in the new born oak is seen,
Ringbearer she, powers have been.
And in her swan silken ride
She sailed the waters of her tide,
Among the mallorns, weeping then,
Loved she was, yet feared again.