Toward that sweet Valley where I had been reared;
'Twas but a shore hour's walk, ere veering round
I saw the snow-white church upon her hill
Sit like a throned Lady, sending out
A gracious look all over her domain.
You azure smoke betrays the lurking town;
With eager footsteps I advance and reach
The cottage threshold where my journey closed.
Glad welcome had I, with some tear, perhaps,
From my old Dame, so kind and motherly,