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Ancient clime beneath unsettled skies Old face weathered by many a gale Stunted pines bowed down with grief Forlorn willows weep and mourn In unkempt heathlands, harsh and sere Weeds mildly shiver in death throes Thy oaks and beeches stood the test of time Thy sleepy meadows braved each flood Enchained by ice, the stream and brook Hoping for spring's reviving look Weary eyes seen seasons change Seen sowing, reaping, lying fallow Alas! Old mother, gray and weak Each lived through battle, left its trace Thy once splendid house in ruins Thy offspring scattered in the winds With teary eyes I'm gazing back In foreign lands I pine for you Thou art my heart, thou art my bones Wherever I may go I stand humble before thy gates And long to walk those cobbled streets Lose myself in thy half-timbered maze For thou I yearn I dream of sand and rivers deep Ghastly graves of stone and moss Of sun-bathed fields and shady groves I can't forget So I swear to you I will return To where I once descended from Lay down my head and find my peace I will come home