Love unto my native land.
Billows dark blue foaming,
Tell me, are ye coming
From that dear distant strand?
Let them flow then,
Since they go then
Back unto my native land!
And as the billow breaks there,
Love's heart and ear yet wakes there;
O speed to her away!
Kindly meet her,
Kindly greet her?
For of me you've much to say!
Seas from thee may tear me,
But my thoughts still bear me