'Tis springtime in the valley now.
The ice has left the stream,
And hills and vale are all aglow,
And life a lovely dream ;
But she who once did share with me
The springtime joy I may not see.

There's music in each marshy nook :
There's music in the air:
There's music in the purling brook :
There's music everywhere:
The world is full of jollity;
But sad am I for memory.

Oft did we watch the wild ducks play:
Oft wait the bittern's call.
The drumming of the grouse by day
Upon our ears would fall.
But she is in her grave and I
Must wait alone beneath the sky.

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