In midst of meadow fair and green,
there brave Gilglas sought a shielded scene
to rest from the might of dark ground
which he had tread but been not found.
Safe from fell blade and dread fire-breath,
he vowed to avoid that place of death;
ere he saw black and faded fen
any beast would he slay again.
He cast himself upon cheered soil,
the darkling sky now set to coil
about the world in tender hold
while Lyftgyden’s gift, bright and bold,
with silver stare gazed down to see
Gilglas sleep under dewy tree.
Middle-aged moon shone o’erhead,
fortifying flowery bed.
Star-pierced dreams came in waves of gold
to cleanse weariness yet untold
by the mind of Gilglas who slept
still with secrets of horror kept.
Then, lo! the sweetest song did ring
throughout air and enchanted spring,
whereupon it graced dreaming ears;
Gilglas woke with extinguished fears.
Up he sprang to find the source,
heeding a nearby river’s course;
marvelous melody grew strong
as he stepped o’er blossoms long
to see now, in full starlight view,
Glædwyn the Snowstar, whose bright hue
made lushest grass and clearest creek
appear pale and humble and bleak.
From her lips sprouted misty speech,
caressing night where it could reach
and Gilglas felt strength fly his knees,
his gaze get stuck and body freeze.
Her azure raiment shimmered smooth,
so elegant it seemed to soothe
both trembling leaf and rattling breeze,
as she danced to put time at ease
there under sable blanket vast
with midnight pool upon her cast;
her snowy skin no less alike
to the stars’ ever valiant strike.
She moved under oak mighty and lean
upon whose branches lay no green
but blended light of courage built
from silver, gold; unable to wilt.
In her bright face lay two soft eyes,
which held deep and old royal ties
to whom Gilglas knew not, nor why
such a lady might from them fly;
for even as she turned her head,
radiance dazzling in her stead,
he could think of good reason naught
to leave her lonely and uncaught.
Then good Gilglas gathered himself,
and called in voice fair as any elf’s:
“Hark! To hear such song and see such dance
hath made me bold in my advance
toward this lady whom I know
from the artistry she doth show.
Though of her name I know her not,
hardest for this I will have fought.
And evil lands leave me sickly
in mind; unable to heal quickly.
Yet she hath revived me on sight;
is this merely my weak mind’s plight?
Indeed, I fear it might be so;
this fairest one might be my woe.”
But Glædwyn turned grey, starlit eyes
upon her admirer’s cries
and thus, she too, just like he
felt doom fill her heart with much glee
so that she knew that in this place
she would give in to his embrace.
Like clean, cool sky her voice frothed forth
unlike anything from the North:
“Be well my weary, Dark-tired friend,
for here no evil hands doth rend
rusty fetters to tie thy mind
nor foul cloth o’er eyes to bind.
Nay, what thou beholdest is pure yet;
and comes hither ere sunrise and set
to find peace from lonely tower
wherein my Lord stays his power.
But come forth, so that we may sing
and dance ere morning dove take wing
to wake us from this blissful sleep;
and give us cause enough to weep.”
But Gilglas smiled and answered so:
“Even Day cannot bid me go.
For here am I caught with no key
to free myself from thy beauty.
I would the key is ne’er found;
to thy will sapling heart is bound.”
So Gilglas the brave came to find
the Snowstar whose presence healed mind
and soul; he felt again now fresh
and under oak their joys did mesh
into lyrical song heard naught,
save in the land Gilglas had sought.
Gold and silver became just one
ere the rise of the morning sun.
Such is the tale in which They met;
for evermore in legend set
to rule all days of joy and mirth
‘til end the time of mossy earth.