The Water Nixie

Dimly sinks the summer evening

Over wood and over meadow;

And the golden moon shines radiant,

Balm diffusing, from the azure.

By the brook sings loud the cricket,

And the water clear is troubled,

And you hear a gentle plashing,

A soft breathing through the stillness.

By the brook, alone, see yonder,

Where doth bathe the lovely Nixie;

Arms and bosom, white and dazzling,

Gleaming in the moon's pale silver.