I Seek Her In The Shady Grove, And By The Silent Stream; I Seek Her Where My Fancies Rove, In Many A Happy Dream; I Seek Her Where I Find Her Not, In Spring And Summer Weather: My Thoughts Paint Many A Happy Spot, But We Ne'er Meet Together. The Trees And Bushes Speak My Choice, And In The Summer Shower I Often Hear Her Pleasant Voice, In Many A Silent Hour: I See Her In The Summer Brook, In Blossoms Sweet And Fair; In Every Pleasant Place I Look My Fancy Paints Her There. The Wind Blows Through The Forest Trees, And Cheers The Pleasant Day; There Her Sweet Voice Is Sure To Be To Lull My Cares Away. The Very Hedges Find A Voice, So Does The Gurgling Rill; But Still The Object Of My Choice Is Lost And Absent Still.