Oh, swallow! I have longed for thee
Through all the burning summer days,
For thou dost fly each year to me
And sing to me my fair love's praise.
Now vine-leaves redden in the sun,
And fruits and corn are garnered now;
So is the sweetest time begun,
Though yellow is the maple bough.
For this day from the pale calm skies
Of the clear north, thy swift wing brings
Joy to my heart, so full of sighs
All summer through thy wanderings.
Oh, swallow! say that thou hast been
To dwell beneath the hanging eaves
Of my love's home, where ivy green
Around her lattice trails fresh leaves.
She saw thee, and she said to thee,
"Oh, swallow! say the years are long,
And bid him come again to me
Ere thou return with the spring's song."
To her I go when winter hear
Shall pass and bring the coming year,
To lead me swiftly to her door —
To welcome love and banish fear!
