At night when the lake is a mirror
And the moon rides the waves to the shore
single soul sets his voice singing
Content to be slightly forlorn

song rises over the lilies (Waa-ooh waa-ooh)
Sweeps high to clear over the reeds
And over the [bad word]  swaying
To pluck at a pair of heartstrings

Two voices, now they are singing
Then ten, as the melody soars
Round the shivering pond all are joining in song
As it carries their reverie on
Over the treetops and mountains
Over the blackened ravines
Then softly it falls by a house near a stream
And over the garden wall
To thee