It's true what they said, lovely was she,
But she was neither elf, faery or pixie.
True she had wings, but eyes so silvery,
Could never be a mortal! Immortal was she likely?

A veil of gold she wore, so modest yet enticing,
He could not help but notice, toward him was she drifting.
Her wings now spread wide, her out-reached arm beckoning,
And he found himself blinded, and her arm taking.

At that instant he awoke, alone by the cold hill's side,
A memory of a dream, distance he complied.
His eyes closed again, the Queen did not subside,
His mind wandered again, to his dreamworld he resides.