My heart

My heart is a minstrel so merry and gay.

He pours out his ditties all night and all day;

O'er mountain and valley, the meadows along

Is echoed the sound of my lighthearted song.

My heart is a minstrel; when bravely he calls

The river rolls faster and noisier brawls:

The sunlight is fairer in heaven's bright blue,

The rose blossoms sweeter, the world is more true.

My heart is a minstrel; he singeth this strain,

That into all hearts should an entrance gain;

For were there no bosom where joy he might bring,

He never again could so joyously sing.