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Wast once be a fair maiden with golden locks and men flock'd to h'r side. 'i m'rnings the mistress danceth 'i the valleys, noons the mistress didst playeth with the hearts of h'r lov'rs, and dusk the mistress didst singeth to the moon. O beest h'r downfall wast of yond witchcraft. The mistress wast hath found out by h'r lov'rs and their wives, their rage those to seel'd h'r once quite quaint blue eyes and didst cast h'r out from the village. The mistress anon walks 'mongst the dark souls trapeth 'i the deepest f'rest and doth taketh the eyes of daws who is't't venture 'i , looking f'r the shadeth of blue yond h'r eyes once w're


Not to to proud of the back of the dress, but I redid it so many times and this was the best one I did