 | Ballads and other verses |  |
93
LAST WORDS IN A STRANGE LAND.
Oh, to be home again, home again, home again,
Under the apple-boughs, down by the mill,—
Mother is calling me, father is calling me,
Calling me, calling me, calling me still.
Under the apple-boughs, down by the mill,—
Mother is calling me, father is calling me,
Calling me, calling me, calling me still.
Oh, how I long to be wandering, wandering
Through the green meadows and over the hill,—
Sisters are calling me, brothers are calling me,
Calling me, calling me, calling me still.
Through the green meadows and over the hill,—
Sisters are calling me, brothers are calling me,
Calling me, calling me, calling me still.
Oh, once more to be home again, home again,
Dark grows my sight and the evening is chill,—
Do you not hear how the voices are calling me,
Calling me, calling me, calling me still?
Dark grows my sight and the evening is chill,—
Do you not hear how the voices are calling me,
Calling me, calling me, calling me still?
| Ballads and other verses | |