At sunset a maid was roaming
Alone by the banks of Rhine,
Whose stream to the dark sea foaming,
Was bright in the red sunshine:
And she wept in bitter sorrow,
As faded the sun’s last ray,
And sadly she thought of the morrow,
For her love was far away!
They’ve bartered the maid and sold her
For empty and pitiless pride,
And morning’s first beam must behold her
A cold and unwilling bride.
With the white rose wreath they’ve bound her,
She shines in her fairest trim,
And cold-hearted friends surround her,
To banish her thoughts of him.
O! leave her alone to her sorrow!
The true heart can never forget;
O! leave her alone till the morrow!
She mourns for her loved one yet.
From her chamber, the maiden, weeping,
Looks out on the lordly Rhine,
‘There’s a boat o’er the light wave sweeping
‘My Rudolph!-O! were it thine!’
Away, o’er the foaming water,
’Tis he!-and thy sire in vain
Shall seek for his blooming daughter,
When the morning comes again!
Away, with thy loved one, maiden!
Away, e’er thy sire pursue!
—She’s gone, and the bark is laden
God favour the bold and true!