St. Michael's square

Lovers of evening strolled among the linden trees,

on the barges sang the boatboys,

and now and then the motion of the wind lifted

a loose lock of your hair.

O, how blissfully your cheeks were glowing,

when you softly pressed my arm,

and smiling, I picked from forbidden blossoms

the fairest as we passed.

The world was so silent and solemn, Lucy.

And the lads sang over the water;

from St. Michael's the bells were pealing,

and we smiled and kept silent, Lucy.