Dreaming sit the children,
Pausing in their play,
Dreaming of what is, ah! so sweet,
Because, because so far away.
And we too have our dreams, our own,
Amid the rush and toil of life,
Our dreams of days and things long flown,
That come like peace comes, after strife.
Old hands we feel, old eyes we see,
Within our ears old voices ring;