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.