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Before me spreads a wild expanse,
Dark heath and woody glen,
But all around peep gaily forth,
The haunts and homes of men.
Dark heath and woody glen,
But all around peep gaily forth,
The haunts and homes of men.
Up starts the lark beneath my feet,
And like a sound of Spring,
The cuckoo, with her ceaseless note,
Flies past on heavy wing:
The swallow twittering, whirls around,
And every living voice
Seems, with one hymn of praise, to bid
Each weary heart rejoice.
And like a sound of Spring,
The cuckoo, with her ceaseless note,
Flies past on heavy wing:
The swallow twittering, whirls around,
And every living voice
Seems, with one hymn of praise, to bid
Each weary heart rejoice.
How does a scene like this awake
The glow of early years!
And dreams of youth return again,
With all their smiles and tears.
The cares, the shades of life depart,
Love, peace, and truth remain;
And sunshine, clear as childhood's, rests
Upon the heart again.
The glow of early years!
And dreams of youth return again,
With all their smiles and tears.
The cares, the shades of life depart,
Love, peace, and truth remain;
And sunshine, clear as childhood's, rests
Upon the heart again.
Oh that thou wert but here, my love,
To sit beside me now!
Oh that the breeze, which fans my cheek,
Could breathe upon thy brow!
Fain would I ask that gentle wind,
Love's messenger to be,
And waft the blessings that I breathe,
To all so dear to me.
To sit beside me now!
Oh that the breeze, which fans my cheek,
Could breathe upon thy brow!
Fain would I ask that gentle wind,
Love's messenger to be,
And waft the blessings that I breathe,
To all so dear to me.
E.
Tunbridge Wells, June 4, 1849.
