A handsome prince rode through the wood, singing of his one true love.
He praised her eyes, her hair, her smile, to the robins and the doves.
But in his hubris, he did proclaim, to a bluebird on his part,
That his love was fairer than all the world, on that he waged his heart.

But then, in a flash of magic, the bluebird shapeshifted there
From tiny bird to faerie damsel, face hid by raven hair.
She pointed her finger at the prince and cried "This dare you've made...
You'll play a little game of mine, or you shall taste my blade!"

"What game?" the prince cried out in fear, while the damsel smiled and said
"Three beauties of this wood you'll see, the fairest from foot to head!
You shall look upon them, and tested your heart shall be.
I'll bless your wedding to your love if she's fairer than all three!"

"And if she's not?" the prince inquired, and her smile became a grin.
"The price for loss, you spoke yourself" and the description did begin.
"I'll tear the heart out from your chest, to be mine for the rest of time,
Should your desire waver or shift from your love to these beauties of mine."

The prince nodded and agreed to the terms. "This game of yours I'll play,
But I guarantee my love's more fair than all I'll see this day!"
The lady's grin became a beam brighter than even the sun.
"Let's hope you're right" she said aloud, for the game, it had begun.

A fair spring nymph, hair gold as corn, made the elf's eyes wide with wonder.
But he yelled "My love's fairer than her! My heart has not yet wandered!"
An elven maid, skin smooth as silk, enticed the prince's lust.
He yelled again "My love's still more fair! Naught shall come between us!"

The faerie reached up to her hair, slowly parting the locks with glee
"The third beauty is myself, young prince. Is your love fairer than me?"
Casting back her guise, the prince could see the resplendent creature beneath
Of shapely form, eyes diamond bright, with a face beyond belief.

Something within the prince did stir like a direwolf from his den
A hunger that he had only ever felt when he saw his betrothed maiden
But he gulped down the fountain of passion, and forced himself to say
"Yes. She's fairer even than you. My wedding, you'll bless, I pray."

The faerie spirit vanished, and on the prince's wedding day
He found that his love for his wife had wilted and shrivelled away.
The memories of that faerie damsel in his mind could never rest
For his love now belonged to her, his heart carved from his chest.