Where’s She?

A lonely tower hunches o’er
Sweeps of endless woods;
Within he stood, amidst his books,
A Wizard yet in youth.

‘She’s gentle like the early Dawn,
And like the Moon so bright;
Bringest to me, this forest fawn,
Ye wisps and playful sprites!

Bear this spell to an elven miss,
A witch or faerie queene;
And ask them, with the sweetest kiss,
Wish she be my Helene?’