The music of the whispering water,

She listens with a charmed fear,

Bound by the spell which there has brought her

The while her fair brow bends and beams

Like that pale flower that loves the streams.

How to his heart he holds the flower!

“O! ever blessed be the hour

Which brings thee, Helen, to my side.

Our friends would frown, I know, my bird

If but our slightest word were heard;