"The day hath passed to mellow night,

The moon floats o'er the lea,
And in its solemn, pallid light

A youth stands silently:
A youth of beauty strange and rare,

Within May Ellen's bower there.
"He stood where o'er the pavement cold

The glimmering moonbeams lay.
May Ellen gazed with wide, scared eyes,

Nor could she turn away,
For, as in mystic dreams we see

A spirit, stood he silently.
"All in a low and breathless voice,

`Whence comest thou?' said she;
`Art thou the creature of a dream,

Or a vision that I see?'
Then soft spake he, as night winds shiver

Through straining reeds beside the river.
" `I came, a bird on feathered wing,

From distant Faeryland
Where murmuring waters softly sing

Upon the golden strand,
Where sweet trees are forever green;

And there my mother is the queen.'
. . . . . . .

"No more May Ellen leaves her bower
To grace the blossoms fair;

But in the hushed and midnight hour
They hear her talking there,

Or, when the moon is shining white,
They hear her singing through the night.

" `Oh, don thy silks and jewels fine,'
May Ellen's mother said,

`For hither comes the Lord of Lyne
And thou this lord must wed.'

May Ellen said, `It may not be.
He ne'er shall find his wife in me.'

"Up spoke her brother, dark and grim:
`Now by the bright blue sky,

E'er yet a day hath gone for him
Thy wicked bird shall die!

For he hath wrought thee bitter harm,
By some strange art or cunning charm.'

"Then, with a sad and mournful song,
Away the bird did fly,

And o'er the castle eaves, and through
The gray and windy sky.

`Come forth!' then cried the brother grim,
`Why dost thou gaze so after him?'

"It is May Ellen's wedding day,
The sky is blue and fair,

And many a lord and lady gay
In church are gathered there.

The bridegroom was Sir Hugh the Bold,
All clad in silk and cloth of gold.

"In came the bride in samite white
With a white wreath on her head;

Her eyes were fixed with a glassy look,
Her face was as the dead,

And when she stood among the throng,
She sang a wild and wondrous song.

"Then came a strange and rushing sound
Like the coming wind doth bring,

And in the open windows shot
Nine swans on whistling wing,

And high above the heads they flew,
In gleaming fight the darkness through.

"Around May Ellen's head they flew
In wide and windy fight,

And three times round the circle drew.
The guests shrank in affright,

And the priest beside the altar there,
Did cross himself with muttered prayer.

"But the third time they flew around,
Fair Ellen straight was gone,

And in her place, upon the ground,
There stood a snow-white swan.

Then, with a wild and lovely song,
It joined the swift and winged throng.

"There's ancient men at weddings been,
For sixty years and more,

But such a wondrouswedding day,
They never saw before.

But none could check and none could stay,
The swans that bore the bride away_."

Not a sound broke the stillness when Allan a Dale had done,
but all sat gazing at the handsome singer, for so sweet was

his voice and the music that each man sat with bated breath,
lest one drop more should come and he should lose it.

"By my faith and my troth," quoth Robin at last, drawing a deep breath,
"lad, thou art--Thou must not leave our company, Allan! Wilt thou not

stay with us here in the sweet green forest? Truly, I do feel my heart
go out toward thee with great love."

Then Allan took Robin's hand and kissed it. "I will stay with thee always,
dear master," said he, "for never have I known such kindness as thou hast

shown me this day."
Then Will Scarlet stretched forth his hand and shook Allan's

in token of fellowship, as did Little John likewise.
And thus the famous Allan a Dale became one of Robin Hood's band.

Robin Hood Seeks the Curtal Friar
THE STOUT YEOMEN of Sherwood Forest were ever early risers of a morn,

more especially when the summertime had come, for then in the freshness
of the dawn the dew was always the brightest, and the song of the small

birds the sweetest.
Quoth Robin, "Now will I go to seek this same Friar of Fountain Abbey

of whom we spake yesternight, and I will take with me four of my
good men, and these four shall be Little John, Will Scarlet, David

of Doncaster, and Arthur a Bland. Bide the rest of you here,
and Will Stutely shall be your chief while I am gone."

Then straightway Robin Hood donned a fine steel coat of chain mail,
over which he put on a light jacket of Lincoln green.

Upon his head he clapped a steel cap, and this he covered by one
of soft white leather, in which stood a nodding cock's plume.

By his side he hung a good broadsword of tempered steel,
the bluish blade marked all over with strange figures of dragons,

winged women, and what not. A gallant sight was Robin so arrayed,
I wot, the glint of steel showing here and there as the sunlight

caught brightly the links of polished mail that showed beneath
his green coat.

So, having arrayed himself, he and the four yeomen set forth upon
their way, Will Scarlet taking the lead, for he knew better than

the others whither to go. Thus, mile after mile, they strode along,
now across a brawling stream, now along a sunlit road, now adown some

sweet forest path, over which the trees met in green and rustling canopy,
and at the end of which a herd of startled deer dashed away,

with rattle of leaves and crackle of branches. Onward they walked