The Winding Stream

Oh, give to me your winding stream
It must not be too wide
Where waving leaves from maple trees meet from either side
The water must be deep enough to float out a small canoe
With no one else but you
Oh do not disturb my waking dream
And the splendor of my winding stream
Flower in my canoe, his eyes
They looked me through
My maiden fair with golden hair is very much like you
The sparkling trout beneath the bank does leave his hiding place
Kingfisher from the bough above so eager to give chase
The spreading branches overhead
The sunlight peeping through
When looking down at you
Oh do not disturb my waking dream
And the splendor of that winding stream
Oh flower in my canoe her eyes they looked me through
A maiden fair with golden hair is very much like you
A maiden fair with golden hair is very much like you