1.
I hear the rustling of the leaves,
The breeze upon the hill,
I hear the thrush's lonely song,
The whisper of the rill.
And through the trailing willow boughs,
The dainty southwinds chime;
I hear all voices soft and low--
But listen not to thine.

I hear all voices soft and low--
But listen not to thine.

2.
Despite the swaying jessamine,
That steals one half the light,
And burdens with its faint perfume
The dewy breath of night;
The stay-eyes thro' the lattice-work,
Are smiling down on mine,
I see the eyes of the blue heaven,
But, darling, where are thine?

I see the eyes of the blue heaven,
But, darling, where are thine?

3.
There is a breath upon my cheek,
A murmur like a sigh;
And beating close upon my heart
A burden seems to lie.
Ah! 'tis the weight of loneliness,
And not thy gentle brow;
I feel the breathings of the night,
But, darling, where are thou?

I feel the breathings of the night,
But, darling, where are thou?

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