HOME-SICKNESS.
[translated from the GERMAN.]
Were I a wild, wild falcon,
I 'd soar away on high,
And seek my father's dwelling,
Beyond the far blue sky.
I 'd soar away on high,
And seek my father's dwelling,
Beyond the far blue sky.
Against that well-known door then
I 'd flap my wings with joy;
My mother from the window
Sees and admits her boy.
I 'd flap my wings with joy;
My mother from the window
Sees and admits her boy.
"Dear son!" she 'd say; "O, welcome!
How often has my heart
Longed sadly to embrace thee;
Now here behold thou art!"
How often has my heart
Longed sadly to embrace thee;
Now here behold thou art!"
Thus, memory still is dreaming
Of what can never be.
My long-lost home—the loved ones—
These eyes may never see.
Of what can never be.
My long-lost home—the loved ones—
These eyes may never see.