All the dreams that my young heart knew,
And through my soul do the yearnings thrill
As of old they were wont to do;
I know in truth when his face I see,
I shall fall at his shining feet,
Where'er it be and whoever is he,
In the light of his glances sweet.
I wait in vain for the sounds that rise
From the tread of his horse's hoof,
And still the mists hide his form away