Beyond the hill, there's a rill, never still,
Where the moon steals from above
With silvery gleam, on the stream, makes it seem
Like a very thing of life
There in the shade, a sweet maid, half afraid,
Comes to me, she is my love,
And there I've planned, as we stand, hand in hand,
That some day she'll be my wife.
My own sweet “Laughing Water”, listen, do,
Tho' you're a big chief's daughter, I love you;
My gentle Minnehaha, tell me true,
Will you become my Indian bride, sweet Laughing Water?
'Neath moon so bright, heart's delight, here tonight
As I sing to you love's song
The very breeze, thro' the trees, adds its pleas,
To my own, so don't decline
Come, loved one shy, let us fly, you and I,
For to me you now belong;
So why delay, won't you say, right away.
That you promise to be mine.
Hearken to the summer breeze that's sighing up above,
Whisp'ring to the swaying trees a tender tale of love,
Hearken to the merry brook that gaily runs along,
to the grasses on its banks it sings love's song;
As the prarie loves the rain, the eagle loves the sky,
As the fishes loves the stream, the sheep the mountain high,
As the bee the flower loves, the flower loves the dew,
As all nature loves, so, love, do I love you.