What does she dream of, lingering all alone
On the vast terrace o'er the stream impending
Through all the still dim night no life-like tone
With the soft rush of wind and wave is blending
Her fairy step upon the marble falls
With startling echo through those silent halls

Chill is the night though glorious and she folds
Her robe upon her breast to meet that blast
Coming down from the barren Northern wolds
There how she shuddered as the breeze blew past
And died on yonder track of foam with shiver
Of giant reed & flag fringing the river

Full, brilliant shines the moon — lifted on high
O'er noble land and nobler river flowing
Through parting hills that swell upon that sky
Still with the hue of dying daylight glowing
Swell with their plumy woods and dewy glade[s]
Opening to moonlight in the deepest shades

Turn lady to thy — halls, for singing shrill
Again the gust descends — again the river
Frets into foam — I see thy dark eyes fill
With large bitter tears — thy sweet lips quiver