DAY sees her smiling, smiling,
But when the sun has set,
Night bears her weeping, weeping.

⁠The mountains are dear to me,
⁠I was young in the mountains,
⁠I had a golden chain and a silver necklace,
My feet were light in the dance, and my heart was lighter yet,
⁠I love the mountains!

Every evening now my heart says to me,—
⁠"Where are thy light feet?
"The feet that bore me so swiftly, when I throbbed in the dance!"
⁠I make no answer.

Every evening now my heart says to me,—
⁠"Where is thy sweet voice?
"The voice that sang my songs, my sweetest songs of gladness!"
⁠I make no answer.

My feet move slowly, no one dances in the valley,
My voice is very low and quiet, for those who sob sing not;
⁠I love the mountains, but I live in the valley;
⁠Some day I will teach my heart.to be content,
⁠I know that I must live in the valley,
⁠My lot has fallen to me in the valley,
⁠But I love the mountains,
⁠I was young in the mountains!
⁠Though I live to be old, I shall never see them again.
I have a golden chain and a silver necklace,
⁠Every night they are wet with my tears.

Day sees her smiling, smiling,
But when the sun bas set,
Night hears her weeping, weeping.