O waving trees

O waving trees,

And waving wind,

And waving seas,

And waving mind --

Where, far and wide,

Am I to roam

To find my bride,

To reach my home?

My soul is my bride;

Ah, whither fled?

She hath not died,

Nor am I dead;

But somehow, somewhere,

A song she heard,

And she flashed through the air

A sun-fire bird.

My bride, she is

Where the rainbows are;

Sweet, sweet her kiss

Awaits afar:

My goal is where

The sea-waves meet

The sands of youth

Stirred by her feet.

O waving leaves,

waving grass,

My heart grieves

That it may not pass.

"Summer is fleet,

Summer is long," --

I know not, sweet,

'Tis an empty song.

Where, far and wide,

Across what foam,

On what strange tide

Shall I be come?

Meet me, O Bride,

Where, lost, I roam;

Leap to my side

And lead me home!