Lyric

Tell me, tell me, gentle stars,

Ever watchful, ever bright,

From your stations in the sky

Do you see my love to-night?

White the snow beneath my feet,

Whiter far her holy breast;

Peaceful are the mighty woods,

But her eyes are soft with rest.

Sweet the scent of spruce and pine,

Sweeter, though, her fragrant breath;

Tell her, tell her, gentle stars,

I am hers alone till death.