This page has been validated.
Oh! but to hear the herd-bell sound.
When shepherds lead the way
Up the high Alps, and children bound,
And not a lamb will stay!
Oh! but to climb the uplands free,
And, where the pure streams foam,
By the blue shining lake, to see,
Once more, my hamlet-home!
Here, no familiar look I trace;
I touch no friendly hand;
No child laughs kindly in my face—
As in my own bright land!—
