She sits and she weeps and she weeps all alone
In a prison disguised as a bower
She was bought by a lord for her wealth and her land
She was sold by her father for power

Now she who was free as a bird in the wood
Is caged in a prison of gold
And wing-clipped she mourns for the life she has lost,
The wild swan that no one could hold

Below in the hall, where her lord sits to drink,
He boasts how he conquered a bride
“Just a touch of the stick, did she not run away?
As she did, as a child, oh she tried.

“But I was prepared for her tricks, you have seen
I've no forests, but crop-lands and fields
All my horses are guarded, my sentries alert
And ‘gainst Elf-magic, cold iron-shields

“Oh, we caught her before out of the gate
And I taught her to never try more!”
What I get I will hold”; he was raising his cup
When a sentry appeared at the door

“There's a mountebank, sir, a magician,” he said,
“That for shelter and hope of reward,
Says he'd entertain you, sir, and all of your guests”
“Oh, is he any good?” asks the Lord.

“Why judge for yourself?” cried the mage at the door,
Though whence he came, no one could say
And with that he began to produce wondrous things
Such marvels their breaths stole away

When at last he was done, they shook off their trance
And the lord tossed him gold with a smile
Saying, “Well done, sir mage. Would my Lady were here,
But she finds evening gatherings a trial.”

“Good, my Lord,” said the mage with a low, humble bow,
Through his eyes were not humble at all
In the meadow in front of your hall,

“I will show you more wonders than you have yet seen
Bid your lady come watch if she will
“She will come,” said the Lord, “I'll escort her, 
myself”
Though the mage smiled, his eyes were cold still

Came the morning, assembled in front of the hall
Were all that could get leave to be
And the Lord and his Lady, his grip on her arm
Leaving bruises where no one could see

Then the mage moved his hands and the crowd its noise
Each one staring as hard as he could
And at last, she looked up and he gestured once more
And the people froze still where they stood

Now he walked to the lady, a smile on his lips
And a tender smile in his eyes
And he took both her hands and he said,
“You are free. What, do you find this a surprise?

“You, once the friend of the feathered and furred
Had found yourself trapped in the net
You were beloved of the forest's fair folk
Did you think that your friends would forget?

“With cold iron this brute kept the Elf lords at bay,
Cold iron stops their magic, it's true
But they called upon me, who am also their friend,
And I am as human as you.

“Now, come,” and he drew her away from the Lord,
Who never more her lord would be
For the joy in her face he'd have risked ten times 
worse
Then he cast the last spell to set them free

Now as though from deep slumber the people awoke
At his side then the lord felt a lack
Saw his lady was gone, while then over his hall
Flew two wild swans, a white and a black