The Storm of Ivenshanks

The silver stormclouds would gather themselves
and come forth from their swany shells
They inlaid and posed their tears and threats
and cast them down the rivulets
tempests roared with wind most shaken
and what willows wept were taken
clouds of storm burst overhead
and from them forth came lightning dread
Rivered down by dawny banks
was the lad of Ivenshanks
And by a pool beneath a tree
ere he wept for'a sweet lady.
Come with me, lad! She called and cried
and crossed the river's other side
But he held back for fear of not,
and forgot e'r that he truly wont.
She climbed the curtain tails of glory
but he stayed in for it was stormy.
But as the gorgish sky began to sing
he wandered to lean o'r his balcony
and there is where the water would sting
and he tried to fly but he had no wings
He ran to the open arms the tempest
and drew not his coat for the cold so relentless
He shivered himself to the place by the tree
and called out for his bravely lady
But she was already up in the sky
behind her the world was small in her eye
She shouted to him but he heard no reply
and he would weep there 'til the storm leavely die.