I know not whence it rises, br This thought so full of woe ; br But a tale of times departed br Haunts me, and will not go. br br The air is cool, and it darkens, br And calmly flows the Rhine, br The mountain-peaks are sparkling br In the sunny evening-shine. br br And yonder sits a maiden, br The fairest of the fair ; br With gold is her garment glittering, br And she combs her golden hair: br br With a golden comb she combs it; br And a wild song singeth she, br That melts the heart with a wondrous br And powerful melody br .