On the tiny lakelet sparkling cool and deep,
Where the brooklet singeth o’er the pebbles white,
Making gladsome music glancing in the light;
Where the brooklet singeth o’er the pebbles white,
Making gladsome music glancing in the light.
I’ve been roaming, roaming through the wild wood deep
Searching for the flowrets when the prairies sleep;
In the tiny blossoms swaying to and fro,
Whispering to each other very soft and low.
I’ve been roaming, roaming o’er the dewy grass,