Once of a Northern midnight

Once of a Northern midnight,
By dike and mountainside,
With fleeces for her habit,
The moon went forth to ride

Up from the ocean caverns,
Where ancient memories bide,
Returning with his secret
We heard the muttering tide.

But fear was not upon you;
Your woman's arms were wide;
The world's poor shreds and tatters
Of mumming laid aside.

The sea-rote for our rubic,
Our ritual and guide,
There was a virgin wedding
Whose vows no priest supplied.

And there until the dawn-wind
Up from the marshes sighed,
Whispered among the aspens,
Shivered and passed and died,

Our scene-shifter the moonlight,
Our orchestra the tide,
I was a prince of fairy,
You were a prince's bride.