"Oh! my dove, my beautiful elf,
Was the water clear as heaven,
Did you weave a crown of flowers for yourself,
In the magic of even?"
"Oh! my mother, my honey mother,
The water was heaven-clear,
I wove a crown of marigolds....
But why do you look so queer?"
"Oh! my girl, my pitiful girl,
Good-bye to your happy hours,