Beyond the window and western glow
Fancy flutters to long ago:
‘Bring me one hawthorn spray.’
Childhood’s blossom and last good-bye—
‘Ah! think of the dawn in the Fatherland!’
Earthly morning—by flower-strewn bed,
Manhood’s tears from a drooping head
Trickling on still cold hand.
Oh! fragrance of the hawthorn tree,
Where’er his lonely footsteps fly,