As the ospreys woo
On the river ait,
So the graceful lass
Has her manly mate.

As the coy marsh flowers
Here and there do peep,
So the graceful lass
In his wakeful sleep.

But he seeks in vain,
Brooding night and day,
Ah me! ah me!
Tossing rest away!

As the coy marsh-flower
Chosen here and there,
So the graceful lass;
He in tune with her.

As the coy marsh-flower
Gathered here and there,
So the graceful lass,
Bells now ring for her.