Heimweh

The birds returning seem so glad As from the South they come, They teach my heart, forlorn and sad, How distant is my home: O'er land and sea wild roaming free, They little understand— Glad nomads—that there is for me One home—one only Land!

And yonder dancing rivulet That merrily on doth go, Humming a tune I 'd fain forget, Adds something to my woe: Ah, had it but a thought for me 'T would either now be dumb, Or it would croon a melody Less dear to me at home!

Fond memories of days of yore!— My heart so hungereth, The smell of upland clover or The dew-wet violet's breath Might quickly fill it with delight; But exiled here I roam, And dread, beyond all else, to-night, The scents that speak of home!