 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
MY MOUNTAIN HOME.
My mountain home! my mountain home!
Dear are thy hills to me!
Where first my childhood lov'd to roam—
Wild as the summer bee:
The summer bee may gather sweet
From flow'rs in sunny prime;
And mem'ry brings, with wing as fleet,
Sweet thoughts of early time:
Still fancy bears me to the hills,
Where childhood lov'd to roam—
I hear, I see your sparkling rills,
My own, my mountain home!
Dear are thy hills to me!
Where first my childhood lov'd to roam—
Wild as the summer bee:
The summer bee may gather sweet
From flow'rs in sunny prime;
And mem'ry brings, with wing as fleet,
Sweet thoughts of early time:
Still fancy bears me to the hills,
Where childhood lov'd to roam—
I hear, I see your sparkling rills,
My own, my mountain home!
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I've seen their noble forests wide,
I've seen their smiling vale,
Where proudly rolls the silver tide
That bears their glorious sail:—
But these are of the earth below;
Our home is in the sky!
The eagle's flight is not more bright
Than paths that we may try!
While all around sweet echoes ring,
Beneath heaven's azure dome:—
Then well the mountaineer may sing,
“My own, my mountain home!”
I've seen their smiling vale,
Where proudly rolls the silver tide
That bears their glorious sail:—
But these are of the earth below;
Our home is in the sky!
The eagle's flight is not more bright
Than paths that we may try!
While all around sweet echoes ring,
Beneath heaven's azure dome:—
Then well the mountaineer may sing,
“My own, my mountain home!”
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |