Yearnings For Home

Oh let me go I’m weary here

And fevers scorch my brain,

I long to feel my native air

Breathe o’er each burning vein.



I long once more to see

My home among the distant hills,

To breathe amid the melody

Of murmering brooks and rills.



My home is where eternal snow

Round threat’ning craters sleep,

Where streamlets murmer soft and low

And playful cascades leap.



Tis where glad scenes shall meet

My weary, longing eye;

Where rocks and Alpine forests greet

The bright cerulean sky.



Your scenes are bright I know,

But there my mother pray’d,

Her cot is lowly, but I go

To die beneath its shade.



For, Oh I know she’ll cling

‘Round me her treasur’d long,

My sisters too will sing

Each lov’d familiar song.



They’ll soothe my fever’d brow,

As in departed hours,

And spread around my dying couch

The brightest, fairest flowers.



Then let me go I’m weary here

And fevers scorch my brain,

I long to feel my native air,

Breathe o’er each burning vein.