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Ancient clime beneath unsettled skies
Old face weathered by many a gale
Stunted pines bowed down with grief
Forlorn willows weep and mourn
In unkempt heathlands, harsh and sere
Weeds mildly shiver in death throes
Thy oaks and beeches stood the test of time
Thy sleepy meadows braved each flood

Enchained by ice, the stream and brook
Hoping for spring's reviving look
Weary eyes seen seasons change
Seen sowing, reaping, lying fallow
Alas! Old mother, gray and weak
Each lived through battle, left its trace
Thy once splendid house in ruins
Thy offspring scattered in the winds

With teary eyes I'm gazing back
In foreign lands I pine for you
Thou art my heart, thou art my bones
Wherever I may go
I stand humble before thy gates
And long to walk those cobbled streets
Lose myself in thy half-timbered maze
For thou I yearn
I dream of sand and rivers deep
Ghastly graves of stone and moss
Of sun-bathed fields and shady groves
I can't forget
So I swear to you I will return
To where I once descended from
Lay down my head and find my peace
I will come home