My soul is singing like a bird
The song it sings is love
Along the shore, upon the hills
Beside the sleepy Dove:
The river that forever flows
To wash the years away;
The place my singing soul loves best
To serenade and say:
A girl, she wanders wild and free
As sweet, Sirocco breeze
She pouts her lips and winks her eye
And uses charms to tease
She sends my soul like soaring swift
To swoop and swirl and feed
She binds, with tender touch, the wounds
My writing soul does bleed
This girl I love’s my darling heart
Who’s half of my own soul
She sits beside me by the stream
To calm me and console
She heals my long-forgotten fears
Those nameless, faceless foes
And in their place she plants pure peace
Like dreaming stream that flows.