She sat and sang alway

   By the green margin of a stream,

Watching the fishes leap and play

   Beneath the glad sunbeam.



I sat and wept alway

   Beneath the moon's most shadowy beam,

Watching the blossoms of the May

   Weep leaves into the stream.



I wept for memory;

   She sang for hope that is so fair:

My tears were swallowed by the sea;

   Her songs died on the air.