II

I lie beside the princess' tower, So close she cannot see my face, And watch her dreaming all day long, And bending with a lily's grace.

Her cheeks are paler than the moon That sails along a sunny sky, And yet her silent mouth is red Where tender words and kisses lie.

I am a minstrel with a harp, For love of her my songs are sweet, And yet I dare not lift the voice That lies so far beneath her feet.