No voices from the vales are heard,
The winds are low,—each little bird
Hath sought its quiet, rocking nest,
Folded its wing, and gone to rest,—
And still I hear thy waters play,
In welcome music, far away.
The earth hath many a gallant show
Of towering peak and glacier bright,
But ne'er beneath the glorious moon
Hath nature framed a lovelier sight
Than thy fair tide, with diamonds fraught,
When every drop with light is caught,
And o'er the bridge the village girls
Reflect below their waving curls,
While merrily thy waters play,
In welcome music, far away!