As the blackbird in the spring
'neath the willow tree

sat and piped
I heard him sing
praising Aura Lee.
Aura Lee! Aura Lee! Maid of golden hair

sunshine came along with thee and swall-ows in the air.

Take my heart and take my ring
I give my all to thee

take me for eternity
dearest Aura Lee!
Aura Lee ! Aura Lee . . .
 In her blush the rose was born

'twas music when she spoke

in her eyes
the light of morn
sparkling seemed to break.
Aura Lee! Aura Lee . . .
 Aura Lee
the bird may flee the willow' golden hair

then the wintry winds may be blowing ev'rywhere.
Yet if thy blue eyes I see
gloom will soon depart

for to me
sweet Aura Lee is sunshine to the heart.