I long for thee; must I long and long in vain?
I sigh for thee; will thou come not back again?
Though cold forms surround us
To sever all that bound us,
Gentle queen of my song.
The fields and the fair flowers shall welcome thee,
And all to thy pleasures belong;
Pride of my early years,
Thou art the queen of my song.

The days are gone, days of summer bright and gay,
The days of love we so fondly whiled away;
But still while I'm dreaming
Thy smiles o'er me are beaming,
Gentle queen of my song.
The wind o'er the lone meadow wails for thee,
The birds sing thy beauties all day long;
Pride of my early years,
Thou art the queen of my song.

I turn to thee; though our happy hours have flown?
I turn to thee; and my saddest thoughts are gone,
For love will be burning
And memory still returning,
Gentle queen of my song.
Come let thy warm heart rejoice with me,
Come from the bright and luring throng;
Pride of my early years,
Thou art the queen of my song.