THE EXILE
SSPRING'S sweet odours from the meadowFling their fragrance far and wide,And the tall trees cast the shadowOf the winter's gloom aside;But for me no spring is bearingGladness to my heart despairing;Comes no more with soothing powerKindly voice, or friendly hand,Song of home, or breath of flower,From my own dear native land.
SSPRING'S sweet odours from the meadowFling their fragrance far and wide,And the tall trees cast the shadowOf the winter's gloom aside;But for me no spring is bearingGladness to my heart despairing;Comes no more with soothing powerKindly voice, or friendly hand,Song of home, or breath of flower,From my own dear native land.
SSPRING'S sweet odours from the meadowFling their fragrance far and wide,And the tall trees cast the shadowOf the winter's gloom aside;But for me no spring is bearingGladness to my heart despairing;Comes no more with soothing powerKindly voice, or friendly hand,Song of home, or breath of flower,From my own dear native land.
S
SPRING'S sweet odours from the meadowFling their fragrance far and wide,And the tall trees cast the shadowOf the winter's gloom aside;But for me no spring is bearingGladness to my heart despairing;Comes no more with soothing powerKindly voice, or friendly hand,Song of home, or breath of flower,From my own dear native land.
High in Heaven, circling nightly,Moon and stars shine overhead;Mighty rivers rush on brightlyTo the ocean's distant bed;But for me, in sorrow pining,Star and stream in vain are shining,Foreign skies are drear above me,By a foreign shore I stand,Thinking of the friends that love me,In my own dear far-off land.
High in Heaven, circling nightly,Moon and stars shine overhead;Mighty rivers rush on brightlyTo the ocean's distant bed;But for me, in sorrow pining,Star and stream in vain are shining,Foreign skies are drear above me,By a foreign shore I stand,Thinking of the friends that love me,In my own dear far-off land.
High in Heaven, circling nightly,Moon and stars shine overhead;Mighty rivers rush on brightlyTo the ocean's distant bed;But for me, in sorrow pining,Star and stream in vain are shining,Foreign skies are drear above me,By a foreign shore I stand,Thinking of the friends that love me,In my own dear far-off land.
High in Heaven, circling nightly,Moon and stars shine overhead;Mighty rivers rush on brightlyTo the ocean's distant bed;But for me, in sorrow pining,Star and stream in vain are shining,Foreign skies are drear above me,By a foreign shore I stand,Thinking of the friends that love me,In my own dear far-off land.