Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?

Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?

Give them me.
         No.

Give them me. Give them me.
                 No.

Then I will howl all night in the reeds,
Lie in the mud and howl for them.

Goblin, why do you love them so?

They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man ( Read more... )