DOWN the valley will I wander, singing songs forlorn,
Waiting for the maiden coming up between the corn.

Down below I hear the river babbling to the breeze,
And I see the sunlight kiss the tresses of the trees.

All the corn is shining with the tears of early rain:
Come, thou sunlight of mine eyes, and bring the dawn again!

Down the valley will I wander, singing songs forlorn,
Till I meet the maiden coming up between the corn.