Babble on oh brook of sighs
As thine hand rests on your silver shine
Reflections of my heart devine
Ripple out in wasted time

Mirrored faces lay upon my mind so dear
Cannot I see through this turmoil of fear
Yet my hand does rest so sweet
Upon your silver water

How dropplets now hang on tight
To the tips of my fingers
Before they fall back into you
This babbling brook I see

Birds sing up high in trees that shade
Your banks where love was made
Yet quietly the brook flows past
As the hand of love rests upon its silver mask