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.