I wandered by the brook-side

I wandered by the brook-side,

I wandered by the mill, --

I could not hear the brook flow,

The noisy wheel was still;

There was no burr of grasshopper,

Nor chirp of any bird,

But the beating of my own heart

Was all the sound I heard.

I sat beneath the elm-tree,

I watched the long, long shade,

And as it grew still longer,

I did not feel afraid;

For I listened for a foot-fall,

I listened for a word;

But the beating of my own heart

Was all the sound I heard.

He came not, -- no, he came not, --

The night came on alone;

The little stars came one by one,

Each in his golden throne.

The evening air passed by my cheek,

The leaves above were stirr'd, --

But the beating of my own heart

Was all the sound I heard.

Fast silent tears were flowing,

When something stood behind, --

A hand was on my shoulder,

I knew its touch was kind;

It drew me nearer -- nearer, --

We did not speak one word,

For the beating of our own hearts

Was all the sound we heard.