In My Native Land

This landscape fills my heart with thrilling joy;
Here, years ago, I dwelt, a happy boy;
Flere was I born, in this fair village-place;
I yet recall my dear old nurse's face;
Her simple cradle song sounds ever near,
And "Mayfly, yellow Mayfly" still I hear.

When still a child I went abroad to roam;
Now, a grown man, again I seek my home;
Ah! twenty years since then have passed away.
'Mid joy and sorrow, yea, 'mid toil and play.
For twenty years it echoed in my ear,
And "Mayfly, yellow Mayfly" still I hear.
My early playmates all, where now are ye?

If one of you 'twere mine again to 'see,
Most lovingly Ed clasp him to my breast.
The thought that I grow old would be suppressed
Yet this is now my five-and-twentieth year,
And "Mayfly, yellow Mayfly" still I hear.

As fleet-winged birds flit round from bough to bough
So do my restless thoughts flit backward now;
As sweets are gathered by the honey-bees,
So do my musings call glad memories —
Each pleasant spot of old to me is dear —
And "Mayfly, yellow Mayfly" still I hear-

I am a child, I am a child again;
I romp about, whistling an old refrain —
Upon a hobby-horse I ride, my horse
Is thirsty, to the trough I ride of course.
It drank enough, now "go" I say with cheer
And "Mayfly, yellow Mayfly" still I hear.

The sun has almost run his daily course,
Tired are rider and his hobby-horse.
Yes, I go home. Upon my nurse's breast
Her lullaby half lulls to drowsy rest.
As from her lips I catch the cadence clear,
And "Mayfly, yellow Mayfly" still I hear.