The first time she awoke,
Her room was filled with light;
Thought she: They've made a little fire
To warm me through the night....
The next time she awoke,
Sweet music stirred the air;
Thought she: They've brought a magic lyre
To make my dreams more fair....
The third time she awoke,
The dawn-swept sky was gray;
Thought she: I know my heart's desire
Will come to me to-day....
But empty was the street,
And ashen was the hearth;
And the music-maker's nimble feet
Were speeding o'er the earth.