0 Luit a Queen's her happy tread, And like a Queen's her golden head ! But 0, at last, when all is said, Her woman's heart for me !
We wandered where the river gleamed 'Neath oaks that mused and pines that dreamed, A wild thing of the woods she seemed, So proud, and pure, and free !
All heaven drew nigh to hear her sing, When from her lips her soul took wing; The oaks forgot their pondering, The pines their reverie.
And 0, her happy queenly tread, And 0, her queenly golden head ! But 0, her heart, when all is said, Her woman's heart for me !