’Twas years ago the passion came,
A vague desire, a longing wild
To visit lands, whose wondrous fame
Had charmed my fancy when a child.
When dreamy south winds softly blew
In spring time o’er the misty glebe,
And birds of passage wedge-like flew
To distant lake and arctic mead,
I felt the longing uncontrolled,
The yearning wish to be away,