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There alone you sit

In the Forest of Wolfdales

Crashing down on the anvil

Crafting the finest jewels

I will come to your tomb

I hope that you may shoe my steed

You work when no one sees

And your legend lives on

The swan-maiden

You took for your wife

Flew away one day

But you carried on anyway

Captured by the king

Slave for his whim

So from the fruit of his loins

You fashioned shining pearls