The maiden is in Love's garden,
She has lingered all the week;
Her father and her lover
Far and wide they seek.

“Ask her of yonder shepherd,
Haply he may have seen.”
“Shepherd, have you seen passing
A maiden like a queen?”

“What was the maiden's clothing,
Silk, or woolen brown?”
“She wore a rosy kerchief,
And a white satin gown.”

“She is down there in the valley,
Beside the fountain's brim,
She holds a bird within her hands,
And tells her griefs to him.”

“O birdling, thou art happy,
In my love's hands so dear,
While I, who am her lover,
Dare not to come a-near.

“What use to be beside the stream,
And suffer thirst like mine?”
“Suffer no more, my lover;
Drink, since there is good wine.”

“What use to stand beside the bush,
Nor dare the rose to take?”
“Gather the roses, dear my love;
They blossom for your sake.”