“Whirlwind!—­mother of the wind! 
  Lend thy aid ’gainst her who sinned! 
  Carry with thee this magic ball. 
  Cast her from his arms for ever,
  Bury her in the rippling river.”

At midday the Prince and his men came to a deep river, spanned by so narrow a bridge that only one rider could cross at a time.  The horse on which the Prince and the maiden were riding had just reached the middle when the magic ball flew by.  The horse in its fright suddenly reared, and before anyone could stop it flung the maiden into the swift current below.  The Prince tried to jump in after her, but his men held him back, and in spite of his struggles led him home, where for six weeks he shut himself up in a secret chamber, and would neither eat nor drink, so great was his grief.  At last he became so ill his life was despaired of, and in great alarm the King caused all the wizards of his country to be summoned.  But none could cure him.  At last the wind wizard’s son said to the King:  “Send for the old wizard from Finland he knows more than all the wizards of your kingdom put together.”  A messenger was at once sent to Finland, and a week later the old wizard himself arrived on the wings of the wind.  “Honored King,” said the wizard, “the wind has blown this illness upon your son, and a magic ball has snatched away his beloved.  This it is which makes him grieve so constantly.  Let the wind blow upon him that it may blow away his sorrow.”  Then the King made his son go out into the wind, and he gradually recovered and told his father all.  “Forget the maiden,” said the King, “and take another bride”; but the Prince said he could never love another.

A year afterward he came suddenly upon the bridge where his beloved met her death.  As he recalled the misfortune he wept bitterly, and would have given all he possessed to have her once more alive.  In the midst of his grief he thought he heard a voice singing, and looked round, but could see no one.  Then he heard the voice again, and it said: 

“Alas! bewitched and all forsaken,
  ’Tis I must lie for ever here! 
My beloved no thought has taken
  To free his bride, that was so dear.”

He was greatly astonished, sprang from his horse, and looked everywhere to see if no one were hidden under the bridge; but no one was there.  Then he noticed a yellow water-lily floating on the surface of the water, half hidden by its broad leaves; but flowers do not sing, and in great surprise he waited, hoping to hear more.  Then again the voice sang: 

“Alas! bewitched and all forsaken,
  ’Tis I must lie for ever here! 
My beloved no thought has taken
  To free his bride, that was so dear.”