Lxv

He’s going far from home, With sorrow laden; He turns yet and looks back-- Good-bye, dear maiden!

He turns yet and looks back, His kerchief waving; With kerchief he dries yet Eyes in tears laving.

And now behind him closed A foreign region As in the sky the lark Gets lost to vision.

He’s gone, but he’ll come back Again, joy-laden-- But ere he will return-- Good-bye, dear maiden!