Proud Adelil! Proud Adelil!
Why does she lie so cold?
( I made her shrink, I made her reel,
I made her white lids fold. )
We sat at banquet, many maids,
She like a Valkyr free.
( I hated the glitter of her braids,
I hated her blue eye's glee! )
In emerald cups was poured the mead;
Icily blew the night.
( But tears unshed and woes that bleed
Brew bitterness and spite. )
“A goblet to my love!” she cried,
“Prince where the sea-winds fly!”
( Her love!— it was for that he died,
And for it she should die. )
She lifted the cup and drank — she saw
A heart within its lees.
( I laughed like the dead who feel the thaw
Of summer in the breeze. )
They looked upon her stricken still,
And sudden they grew appalled.
( “It is thy lover's heart!” I shrill
As the sea-crow to her called. )
Palely she took it — did it give
Ease there against her breast?
( Dead — dead she swooned, but I cannot live,
And dead I shall not rest. )