Now, the Baron of East March's fair sorcerous daughter
was enamored, unseemly with the fool of her Lord.
Now her Duke was deemed handsome, he'd a soul vain and petty
and a dark mind as empty as last summer's gourd.
And the fool, he was clever and he sang for the Lady
like a nightingale piping in a deep forest grove.
But his station was lowly and his body was aging
and their love was as helpless as if he were stone.
So the Lady has led them, the fool and her husband
to her cool secret garden by the mid-summer's moon.
and she's danced them a spell there of shifting and changing
and left them dumbfounded by sorcery's boon.
She has left the fool crying to the gods of his fathers'
she has led her Duke laughing to her high chamber door.
And she's kept him there softly for two days bright dawning's
while the servants all gossiped in wonder and awe.
Now, the fool died in madness, saying he was ensorcelled
and the Duke only smiled him a sad secret smile.
Now, the Duke rules his people in wit and good humor
and he sings for his Lady like the nightingales' song.
And she's borne him five children, two sons and three daughters
and they've grown straight and handsome and sorcerous all.
And they dance in the garden and sing in the moonlight
like nightingales singing in a green forest hall.