The ship-wrecked boy on some far distant shore
In happy dreamland sees his home once more,
His mother’s face aglow with pride and joy
As to her breast she clasps her sailor boy,
And summer seas beat on the golden sand
That forms the shore of Gentian’s wonderland.
The ruined merchant’s heart again grows light,
As fortune smiles on him at dead of night,
And sheriff’s sales and judgment notes confessed
No longer break the weary toiler’s rest.