The water-lily

A silent water-lily

From the dark lake doth rise;

Her tender snow-white blossom

On the still water lies.

The moon, from highest heaven,

Pours down its golden light;

And all its rays are gathered

Into that blossom bright.

Around that snow-white flower

A singing swan doth float;

It is his dying hour,

It is his dying note.

He pours his soul in music,

His heart must break, ere long;

O flower, -- snow-white flower!

Wilt thou not hear the song?