The image is yet another of Waterhouse's wonderfully exotic works...

And there away and gone,
Riding on their steeds made of light and wind,
Searching for that gone wrong,
So they might therein recind,
'Fore the Darkness overtake them all,
And poison worlds apart,
With the mortal's desperate pall,
That came from their directionless heart.
So rides the Lord of Mallow,
His faithful friend beside,
To see if beings so very shallow,
Might yet learn to abide,
Within the better faith of the Divine,
Within the course of Nature's way ,
Within the places made so fine,
Before the false creations did take sway.
And 'neath the cloak of deshaldeagh,
Unseen by mortal eyes are they,
To see the witch called Isadora,
'Fore the next return of day.
And upon approach to forests deep,
Where babbling brooks and mushrooms roam,
Where shadows in their places keep,
The children of the forest loam,
Down past these places far and gone,
Down past the fern and Trillium flower,
Down past the nightingale's soft song,
Down past the fading oak's wood tower.
Down here where all the old ones came,
When in their arrogance did Man decide,
And having soon forgot their name,
Did Man forget that they still reside.
Was't here that the Fey lords came,
To speak with the ancient lady fair,
And hope that that which did defame,
Might yet be made to be more square.

"Where come ye, Faery Princesses dark?"
She spoke into the crystal sphere.
"What brings ye to my place so stark?"
She asked as they were drawing near.

"We are come, as you well know,"
Did Lord of Mallow soft reply,
The voice on wind cast echoes show,
And he not sure the reason why,
"To speak with ye on problems deep,
Things that darken worlds away,
Things that trouble e'en our sleep,
As Darkness now does hold harsh sway." 

"Come then, my love," she softly cooed,
"And we will speak of many things.
But your friend I have not wooed,
Nor care for what he brings."

"Lugh Dir is my companion sure,
Ye hath no fear from him,
For his is a heart that's pure,
And he comes not on a whim.
He sees the pall that poisons all,
He sees the work of Man,
And he knows that in the end might fall,
All that was and can.
Be not harsh upon him so,
For he is true and brave,
And with me he will always go,
For brotherhood we gave."

"And dost ye brother know my heart?
I think not, M'Lord, however true he be.
And it is with you I will impart,
But ne'er speak with he.
Some come ye now so much alone,
To my place ye know so well,
And let him sit upon his roan,
As our stories we will tell."

Lord of Mallow did explain,
To Lugh Dir the witch's request,
That here within the wood remain,
Until they spoke their best.
Lugh Dir did frown, his brow was deep,
"To trust her so is careless thought,
While Darkness into all does seep,
And battles yet unfought,
Trouble me within my sleep.
And yet your ears this voice has caught,
And on you does this burden heap.
I will wait, here among the fern and moss,
While into her world you must ride,
And hope that within this trust not lost,
There is not treason sought to hide."

"Good friend is he indeed,"
Isadora spoke upon the breeze.
"His loyalty within him freed,
He is as stout as all the trees.
No harm to come to he or you,
You know my care within.
Yet are there things we all must do,
To repair this sickened sin.
My heart for you doth call for rain,
For my love for you is ocean deep,
And my eyes wish so to see ye once again,
Before these mountains grow too steep.
So if we may a moment soft,
That we might be as we once were,
Before we sail too far aloft,
And into mortal worries stir,
Let me hold you to my breast,
To kiss your lips once more,
And then you may fly your crest,
And speak to me of War."

"M'Lady," did Lord of Mallow whisper to,
"Always that moment will I share,
For soft graces would I need from you,
For equally I care."

And as the morning mist swirled past,
So did he come upon her place,
And from his steed dismount at last,
To place his lips upon her face...