Thou whose locks outshine the sun. 
Golden tresses wreathed in one. 
As the braided streamlets run! 
Standing, with reluctant feet, 
Where the brook and river meet. 
Womanhood and childhood fleet! 
Gazing, with a timid glance. 
On the brooklet’s swift advance, 
On the river’s broad expanse! 
Deep and still, that gliding stream 
Beautiful to thee must seem, 
As the river of a dream. 
Seest thou shadows sailing by, 
As the dove, with startled eye. 
Sees the falcon’s shadow fly? 
