Who rides so late on a night so wild?
A father, through darkness and wind, with his child.
He holds the youngster. His arm is tight
To keep him warm in the cold of the night.
"What's wrong? Son, why are you hiding your eyes?"
"Look father; can't you see the Elvenking rise?
The Elvenking there, all gowned and crowned?"
"My son, it's only fog from the ground"
Dear little child, come away with me.
Our games together- what game's they'll be!
I've gorgeous gardens along the shore.
My mother will cloak you in gold galore.
"O father! My father: oh can you not hear
The promise the Elvenking breathes in my ear?"
"Son, easy. Take it easy there.
It's withered leaves in the windy air. "
So, sweet little boy, will you come my way?
My daughters will wait on you night and day.
My daughters will dance through the night in a ring.
You'll rest as they rock you and sleep as they sing.
"O Father! My father: oh can you not see
His daughters in darkness looking at me?"
"My son, my son. What I see is the way
The old gray wayside willow trees sway."
I love you! Your beauty is stirring my lust.
And if you're unwilling, I'll take as I must!
"O father! My father! He won't let me go!
Elvenking's holding me, hurting me so!"
The father shudders. He spurs his horse on.
His arm is clasping his moaning son.
Back home under strain and stress he sped,
And in his arms the boy was dead.