Vale of toil so waste and drear, hear him now advancing,
    Playing on the golden strings, the midnight maiden’s boon;
Breaks the sunshine on the hills, the princess falls to dancing
    In a bridal noon!

Oh, the joyfulness and kissing of that fiddle’s flowings,
    Giving rest and happiness, and laughter delicate!
Fling out from this iron world to his merry bowings,
    Oh, be not too late!

Lancelot, Lancelot, ride with song and gleaming
    Robin, wind in greenwood shaw thy dreaming silvery horn,
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down thy hair a-beaming,
    Yellow as the corn!

Pride, begone, thou hateful curse of narrowed blood and breeding,
    Cruel growth of heaviness and dull, cold ignorance;
Come, thou golden Charity, lend to us thy leading
    In a sunny dance!