Poems (Linn)/Song
For works with similar titles, see Song.
SONG.
THE southern bird flies north again, The bloom is on the tree;The columbine is tipped with gold, O, wandering heart, come back to me.
The wild rose blushes on the hill, And blue the summer sea;The clover fields perfume the air, O, wandering heart, come back to me.
The purple bloom 1s on the grape, The maple crimsons on the lea;The woodbine spills its royal blood, O, wandering heart, come back to me.
The snow is white upon the world, The merry brooks must silent be;While dreary moans the northern wind, O, wandering heart, come back to me.
I am not sad as seasons roll; Life still is sweet, joy still is free;And yet,—and yet,—there is something lost— O, wandering heart, come back to me.