At fall of glowing summer day

At fall of glowing summer day

Through lone vale I take my way

The waning sun gilds the lofty hill

The banks are green and blue the rill.

The scented flowers perfume the bowers

And all is still.

At house door sits a graceful maid

In ribands golden-bright arrayed

And as her needle she plies, she heeds

Her flock that o'er the green hill feeds;

Its pathway guiding to streamlet gliding

O'er grassy mead.

Of what dreams she, that maiden fair,

Out gazing through the twilight air?

Though silent she's not in heart alone

Her fancy oèr the hill has flown;

Hark, distant singing, its echoes winging

In lovelorn tone.