There
shall I visit the place of my birth. They'll give me a welcome the warmest on earth. So loving and kind, full of music and mirth, The sweet sounding language of home. O, roe, soon shall I see them, O, hee-roe, see them, oh see them. O, roe, soon shall I see them, The mist covered mountains of home! There shall I gaze
on the mountains again. Hail to the mountains
with summits of blue! |