to you unseelie sylvan sylph

To you, Unseelie sylvan sylph,

Boisterous Naiad of some sacred spring,

The androgyne, the woman king,

The sovereign of some goblin fief.

Redcap, beautiful and eldritch like the star

That courses heaven, bounding far,

That bathes the world in vibrant light,

Yet, too, a scoundrel that steals the sight

Of those so bold to stare into her face.

O, that I could witness full that grace,

The splendor of your sorcerous dance,

To see you in your glorious trance.

But such has a forbidden tinge,

Like sin, upon propriety’s fringe;

It feels like Aktaion and Artemis.

O, but life is foolish artifice,

And as the lusty man did say

I’d let you ruin me, anyway.

And if it were your pleasure

I should give my last full measure

And be the sacrificial hart,

Madam, I shall shall play that part,

Spill profane blood onto those grounds

And be the meat for sacred hounds.