[BNP/E3, 31A – 5v]

I feel pale and I shiver…

     What power of the moonlight

|Tremulously in the river|

     Thus pains me with delight?

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What spell spoken by the moon

     Utters me out to soul?

O speak to me! I swoon!

     I fade from life's control…

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I am all turned spirit, een

     The very flesh of me.

O river too serene

     For my tranquillity!

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O ache somehow of living!

     O sorrow for something!

O voice of moonlight-giving

     It crowns me fairy-king[1]

Of some spell‑bound realm mute,

     {…} lone!

Voice like a dying flute

     |When|[2] we would have't play on.

 
[1] O voice of moonlight-giving /O moon‑pain the sense‑giving\

     It crowns me /We name of\ fairy-king /That I am fairy-king\
[2] |When| /O ache\