I.
What makes me so heavy-hearted,
I ask of my heart in vain:
But a tale of the times departed
Haunts ever my heart and brain.

II.
In the cool air it waxes dimmer,
And quietly flows the Rhine:
And the mountain summits glimmer
In the sunny evening shine.

III.
There sits on the rocks a maiden
In marvellous beauty there.
With gold her apparel is laden,
And she combs her golden hair:

IV.
And the comb is of gold and glistens,
And thereto she sings a song,
Which for every soul that listens
Has a potent spell and strong.

V.
The boatman in light boat speeding,
When he hears it, utters a cry,
No longer the rapids heeding,
But only gazing on high.

VI.
The stream is its wild waves flinging
O'er boat and boatman anon,
And 'tis this with her lovely singing
Which the Lorey Ley has done.