Whose woods these are, I think I know
She makes time pass here stately slow
And here I linger, mind sedate
Til night has wreathed the silvery snow

Time tip-toes past as I await
The one who comes as day grows late
Each solstice, as I vigil here
Her memory compelling bait

A fragile song, both wild and clear
Falls like a snowflake on my ear
Then swells as she begins her dance
And strengthens as she ventures near

With stumbling steps I must advance
She bids me join her with a glance
Her beauty drives a man to weep
Her steps invoke a dreamlike trance

Her eyes are lovely, dark and deep
I see her face wheneer I sleep
The wildest things one cannot keep
The wildest things one cannot keep.

She is the dark, the solstice Queen 
Her hair of sable, face serene
She comes to dance on longest night
When forest shows no hint of green

She whirls and spins in silver light
The forest witness to her rite
A boy, I saw her at her play
A scene not meant for mortal sight

She pulled me forth, to dip and sway
And danced with me til break of day
Then bade me come again next year
As I have done, until Im gray

Now I am old, she holds me near
And whispers sweetly in my ear
Your time is done, and I will weep
When next I come and frolic here

 Her eyes are lovely, dark and deep
The wildest things one cannot keep
She dances now on where I sleep
She dances now on where I sleep.