My maiden she proved false to me;
⁠To hate all joys I soon began,
⁠Then to a flowing stream I ran,—
The stream ran past me hastily.

There stood I fixed, in mute despair;
⁠My head swam round as in a dream;
⁠I well-nigh fell into the stream,
And earth seemed with me whirling there.

Sudden I heard a voice that cried—
⁠I had just turned my face from thence—
⁠It was a voice to charm each sense:
"Beware, for deep is yonder tide!"

A thrill my blood pervaded now,
⁠I looked, and saw a beauteous maid;—
⁠I asked her name—'twas Kate, she said—
"Oh, lovely Kate! how kind art thou!

"From death I have been saved by thee,
⁠'Tis through thee only that I live;
⁠Little 'twere life alone to give,
My joy in life then deign to be!"

​And then I told my sorrows o'er,
⁠Her eyes to earth she sweetly threw;
⁠I kissed her, and she kissed me too.,
And—then I talked of death no more.