Homeward, homeward for the mountains,
[As at Strasburg on the bulwarks]
When the Alpine horn was blowing.
Willingly would I give up all,
Earnest money, silver scudi,
E'en the Holy Father's blessing,
E'en the wine of Orvieto
Which pearls sweetly in the goblet,
Could I once again be chasing
Boldly on their tracks the chamois