By the banks of the river, at the close of the day
Came the sweet Lady Harvest a-wending her way.
As she listened in the stillness came a voice close at hand,
"Take warning, my lady, there is death near at hand."
Then there came up beside her the fairest of men.
Lady Harvest and Lord Bringold together did stand.
And she wept on his shoulder her sorrow to show,
Though it tore her asunder, she begged him to go.
"Take warning, my dear one, I fear you must fly.
I am wed to Lord Beren." the lady did cry,
"He has sworn oath to slay thee should he find you so near,
And I fear for your safety, Lord Bringold my dear."
"Oh my dearest of ladies pray fear not for me,
For thy love is the vision I live but to see.
Cruel Death shall not part us nor harm us come night,
And I swear by my honor I will stay by your side."
Then there came the Lord Beren with his flashing bright sword,
And he slew the Lord Bringold with nary a word.
As the foaming dark waters washed the blood from his head,
Cried out Lady Harvest, "My dear one is dead."
"Oh, a curse on you Beren and a curse on your lands,
And a curse on your issue, there is blood on your hands.
Him you slew in your anger was the finest of men
And the fair land of Gwenydd shall not see him again."
Then the lord rose in anger his lady to slay,
Cast her down in the river to bear her away.
"No other shall have thee nor thy beauty enjoy.
Farewell, Lady Harvest, thy life I destroy."
But the gods they took pity on this unhappy pair,
Lady Harvest and Lord Bringold so fine and so fair.
Now they dwell in the fair halls no mortal may see
On the Isle of the Blessed in the far Western Sea.
Now they dwell in the fair halls no mortal may see
On the Isle of the Blessed in the far Western Sea.