Thro' the faintest filigree,
o-ver the dim waters go,
little ships of Arcady,
when the morning moon is low. 

I can hear the sailors' song
from the blue edge of the sea,
passing like the lights a-long
Thro' the dusky filigree

Then where moon and waters meet
sail by sail they pass away,
With little friendly winds replete
blowing from the breaking day

and when the little ships have flown,
Dreaming still of Arcady
I look across the waves, alone
in the misty filigree. 

Thro' the faintest filigree,
O-ver the dim waters go ... 
Little ships of Arcady
When the morning moon is low