F. E. Bunnett, Undine

Undine, thou image fair and blest, 

    Since first thy strange mysterious glance, 

    Shone on me from some old romance, 

    How hast thou sung my heart to rest! 

  How hast thou clung to me and smiled, 

    And wouldest, whispering in my ear, 

    Give vent to all thy miseries drear, 

    A little half-spoiled timorous child! 

  Yet hath my zither caught the sound, 

    And breathed from out its gates of gold, 

    Each gentle word thy lips have told, 

    Until their fame is spread around. 

  And many a heart has loved thee well, 

    In spite of every wayward deed, 

    And many a one will gladly read, 

    The pages which thy history tell. 

  I catch the whispered hope expressed, 

    That thou should'st once again appear; 

    So cast aside each doubt and fear, 

    And come, Undine! thou spirit blest! 

  Greet every noble in the hall, 

    And greet 'fore all, with trusting air, 

    The beauteous women gathered there; 

    I know that thou art loved by all. 

  And if one ask thee after me, 

    Say: he's a true and noble knight, 

    Fair woman's slave in song and fight 

    And in all deeds of chivalry.