All who were made acquainted with the promise she had given could perceive that she was every moment on the point of revealing a happy secret; and yet, as children sometimes delay tasting their choicest dainties, she still withheld the communication.

Bertalda and Huldbrand shared the same delightful feeling, while in anxious hope they were expecting the unknown disclosure which they were to receive from the lips of their friend.
At this moment several of the company pressed Undine to sing.

This she seemed pleased at; and ordering her lute to be brought, she sang the following words:-- "Morning so bright, Wild-flowers so gay, Where high grass so dewy Crowns the wavy lake's border.
On the meadow's verdant bosom What glimmers there so white?
Have wreaths of snowy blossoms, Soft-floating, fallen from heaven?
Ah, see! a tender infant!-- It plays with flowers, unwittingly; It strives to grasp morn's golden beams.
O where, sweet stranger, where's your home?
Afar from unknown shores The waves have wafted hither This helpless little one.
Nay, clasp not, tender darling, With tiny hand the flowers! No hand returns the pressure, The flowers are strange and mute.
They clothe themselves in beauty, They breathe a rich perfume: But cannot fold around you A mother's loving arms;-- Far, far away that mother's fond embrace.
Life's early dawn just opening faint, Your eye yet beaming heaven's own smile, So soon your tenderest guardians gone; Severe, poor child, your fate,-- All, all to you unknown.
A noble duke has crossed the mead, And near you checked his steed's career: Wonder and pity touch his heart; With knowledge high, and manners pure, He rears you,--makes his castle home your own.
How great, how infinite your gain! Of all the land you bloom the loveliest; Yet, ah! the priceless blessing, The bliss of parents' fondness, You left on strands unknown!" Undine let fall her lute with a melancholy smile.

The eyes of Bertalda's noble foster-parents were filled with tears.
"Ah yes, it was so--such was the morning on which I found you, poor orphan!" cried the duke, with deep emotion; "the beautiful singer is certainly right: still 'The priceless blessing, The bliss of parents' fondness,' it was beyond our power to give you." "But we must hear, also, what happened to the poor parents," said Undine, as she struck the chords, and sung:-- "Through her chambers roams the mother Searching, searching everywhere; Seeks, and knows not what, with yearning, Childless house still finding there.
Childless house!--O sound of anguish! She alone the anguish knows, There by day who led her dear one, There who rocked its night-repose.
Beechen buds again are swelling, Sunshine warms again the shore; Ah, fond mother, cease your searching! Comes the loved and lost no more.
Then when airs of eve are fresh'ning, Home the father wends his way, While with smiles his woe he's veiling, Gushing tears his heart betray.
Well he knows, within his dwelling, Still as death he'll find the gloom, Only hear the mother moaning,-- No sweet babe to SMILE him home." "O, tell me, in the name of Heaven tell me, Undine, where are my parents ?" cried the weeping Bertalda.

"You certainly know; you must have discovered them, you wonderful being; for, otherwise you would never have thus torn my heart.