Her house is empty and her heart is old    And filled with shades and echoes that deceive    With blind bent fingers, nets that cannot hold    No one save her for still she tries to weave    Once all men's arms rode up to her 'tis told    And hovered like white birds for her caress   A crown she could have to bind each tress    Of hair and her sweet arms the witches gold       Her mirrors know her whiteness for there    She rose in dreams from other dreams    From other dreams, from other dreams    Her softness as she stood crowned with soft hair    And with his bound heart and his young eyes bent    And blind he feels her presence like shed scent    Holding his body and life within its snare    Her softness as she stood crowned with soft hair    Holding his body and life within its snare       Her house is empty and her heart is old    And filled with shades and echoes that deceive    With blind bent fingers, nets that cannot hold    No one save her for still she tries to weave    Once all men's arms rode up to her 'tis told    And hovered like white birds for her caress   A crown she could have to bind each tress    Of hair and her sweet arms the witches gold