Lorelei

‘The hour is late, the glow is gone,
And through the wood you ride alone.
No friend at hand, the wood is wide,
I’ll bring you home, you lovely bride.’
 
‘Men have such cunning to deceive.
They broke my heart, I burn, I grieve.
The wood-horn’s echoes come and go.
Flee! I am one you do not know.’
 
‘Both horse and lady richly dight,
Fair form of youth, a noble sight.
I know you now – pray God be nigh!
You are the witch, the Lorelei!’
 
‘You know me well! That hall is mine,
That waits and broods above the Rhine.
The hour is late, the glow is gone,
Here you shall stay, my thrall, my own!’