And for a few brief moments once again
I seem to wander through the dear old wood.
The birds sing round me, the dark forest pines,
Stirred by the breeze, make music like the low,
Faint murmurs of the sea, my playmates shout
Beside me, and my mother’s music call
Of gentle love is in my ear.
Oh, there,
In that sweet home, I cherished fairy dreams
Of happiness, sad all my being wore