My secret

O hasten your speed, my steed, my steed,

My heart no longer can tarry;

To the wood, to the wood, to the far greenwood,

My joyous secret to carry!

O were I upward tro' ether drawn

Like the skylark soaring and soaring,

How would I sing to the rosy dawn,

My joy, my joy outpouring.

No wings are mine with the lark on high

To soar where no mortal is near me,

I cannot sing to the rosy sky.

The earth, the earth must hear me.

The hearken, oh forest, and share my bliss,

For past is my passionate yearning;

She is mine! She is mine! Her virgin kiss

Upon my lips is burning!