150
homeland.
Homeland.
SONG.
Hope sang to me in the Spring-time,
When primroses bloomed in the lane,
"Weep not, sweetheart—for lovers must part,
And thine will return again!"
But my tears fell fast on the golden sand
As my love sailed away from the dear Homeland.
When primroses bloomed in the lane,
"Weep not, sweetheart—for lovers must part,
And thine will return again!"
But my tears fell fast on the golden sand
As my love sailed away from the dear Homeland.
Hope sang again in the Autumn,
When fields were yellow with grain—
"I see white sails a-gleaming, and a sailor lad a-dreaming,
On a barque that nears the main;
He dreams of thee, sweet maiden—and—
He's steering now for the dear Homeland."
When fields were yellow with grain—
"I see white sails a-gleaming, and a sailor lad a-dreaming,
On a barque that nears the main;
He dreams of thee, sweet maiden—and—
He's steering now for the dear Homeland."
Hope sang once more in the gloaming,
When Autumn was on the wane—
"Weep not for thy absent lover, his earthly voyage is over,
But ye shall meet again
Where there are no rocks, nor shoals, nor sand,
For there's 'no more sea' in the great Homeland."
When Autumn was on the wane—
"Weep not for thy absent lover, his earthly voyage is over,
But ye shall meet again
Where there are no rocks, nor shoals, nor sand,
For there's 'no more sea' in the great Homeland."
