I. [The Cornfield]
 The ripe corn bends low
 When the wind blows fair,
 Like curtseying maidens,
 Curts'ying maidens
 With golden hair.

II. [The Sea]
 Dark billows reflect
 The gath'ring clouds;
 The white foam is frothing
 Like tossing shrouds.

III. [The Moor]
 Winds are sobbing
 In pinetree wood.
 The moor is a king's robe
 Stained with blood.

IV. [Night]
 The wild rose sleeps above the pool,
 Round her sleepeth every leaf;
 The night air, soft and cool,
 Cradles them all above the pool
 And all their shadows sleep beneath.