Oh they say he rode into Faery,
To take her for his wife,
But the man who rides into Faery,
Plays dangerous games with his life.
She had hair like a morning sunrise,
And skin like a milk white mare,
And birds of gold and white and green,
That followed her everywhere.
She was the goddess of living creatures,
Of the beasts of the fields and herds,
Making butterflies with the words of a song,
And filling the air with birds.
And Pwyll was only a mortal man,
Tho' in his own land a king,
Who gazed one time on a goddess fair,
And forgot about every thing.
And Pwyll dared to try and win her,
Dared to test with the King of Shades,
For no mortal woman could touch the heart,
That he'd lost to the fairest of maids.
So he risked all the wrath of Faery,
For to win his goddess bride,
And when he rode back to mortal sun,
Rhiannon was at his side.
She gave up the gifts of a goddess,
For the love of a mortal man,
Accepting the pain of age and death,
And living a mortal span.
Love is worth the pain of dying,
For twas part of Rhiannon's plan,
To bring true love to the mortal world,
And a touch of the gods to man.
Of the love of Pwyll and Thiannon
Even now the minstrals sing,
The goddess who rode out of Faery
To wed with a mortal king.
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