Dark and dreary is the night
With withered autumn trees.
And not a sound is made for fright
For fear of Lady Alise

She peers through house,
Through home she creeps,
As silent as the grave.
Searching for the vanished son
Whose loss she cannot brave.

Her boy was bright with heart so sweet,
And somewhat sly to boot.
Yes, always quick to lend a hand
When mischief was afoot.

Indeed she loved him, her husband too.
And for a while all was well.
But all too soon her lover was wooed
By a fairer maiden in the dell.

The less she saw
Her first beloved
The more her ire swelled.
So when he just held their first and last son,
Greater resentment she held.

By and by as seasons do,
Did Alise’s mind give way
And with each moon phasing anew,
A darker shadow came to play.

The night of truth had come to pass
When that woman lay in her bed.
That sacred spot beside her man
Deemed their bond be dead.

Bitter words and flying fists
Bade her a heartless farewell.
She grabbed her son along the way,
Now an empty shell.

They wandered through the blistering cold
And came across a river.
And in her rage
Her only child’s soul
Unto it she delivered.

Her eyes grew wild and she laughed surely mad,
For now her troubles should cease.
But upon finding the guilt and sorrow had,
She sought for her son in one peace.

But alas, the river, so unforgiving,
Burning ice with every move,
Forbade her forgiveness and a child among the living,
And did her sweet reunion reprove.

So, to this day her search goes on
To her sweet love renew.
A boy, her son, her cherished one,
To return with her to skies so blue.

To young ones today: Be wise and wary
And caution in traveling alone.
For the Lady still lurks, and watches, and waits
To bring her son, anyone, back home.