A Morning Greeting

Die Schöne Müllerin The Miller's pretty Daughter


‘Good morning, Mistress,’ is all I said,
So why do you turn away your head
As if something were wrong?
Is that greeting such a pain?
When I look, is that a strain?
Why then, I’ll move along.

But let me stand some way away
Within sight of your window.
Let me stay, watching from afar
To see your dear, blond head
Appear at the gate, your clear eyes
Blue as the morning star.

Eyes, still drunk with heavy sleep,
Flowers weighed down by dew.
But why do you hide them from the light?
Were your dreams so sweet last night
That you close your eyes and weep
To find their peace anew?

Cast off now those musty dreams.
So fresh and new the morning seems
That the Lord has made;
The lark is singing in the sky,
I heed the depths of my heart’s cry:
‘Let love’s call be obeyed.’