II

I lie beside the princess’ tower,

So close she cannot see my face,

And watch her dreaming all day long,

And bending with a lily's grace.

Her cheeks are paler than the moon

That sails along a sunny sky,

And yet her silent mouth is red

Where tender words and kisses lie.

I am a minstrel with a harp,

For love of her my songs are sweet,

And yet I dare not lift the voice

That lies so far beneath her feet.