I.
UNDINÉ by the lonely shore,
In lonely grief, is pacing;
The vows her perjured lover swore
No more with hope retracing.
Yet none in beauty could compare
With ocean's bright-haired daughter.
Her cheek is like the lotus fair
That lieth on the water;
UNDINÉ by the lonely shore,
In lonely grief, is pacing;
The vows her perjured lover swore
No more with hope retracing.
Yet none in beauty could compare
With ocean's bright-haired daughter.
Her cheek is like the lotus fair
That lieth on the water;