O waving trees,
  And waving wind,
And waving seas,
  And waving mind --
Where, far and wide,
  Am I to roam
To find my bride,
  To reach my home ?

My soul is my bride ;
  Ah, whither fled ?
She hath not died,
  Nor am I dead ;
But somehow, somewhere,
  A song she heard,
And she flashed through the air
  A sun-fire bird.

My bride, she is
  Where the rainbows are ;
Sweet, sweet her kiss
  Awaits afar :
My goal is where
  The sea-waves meet
The sands of youth
  Stirred by her feet.

O waving leaves,
  waving grass,
My heart grieves
  That it may not pass.
"Summer is fleet,
  Summer is long," --
I know not, sweet,
  'Tis an empty song.

Where, far and wide,
  Across what foam,
On what strange tide
  Shall I be come?
Meet me, O Bride,
  Where, lost, I roam ;
Leap to my side
  And lead me home !