In that dear home far away.

Comes again the gentle showers,

Dripping, dripping all the day!

And the sun sends out its bright rays,

Warming up the hill tops bare,

Wakes to life the sleeping blossoms

With their colors rich and rare.

 

Yes: the flowers o' May are blooming.

Blooming as in days of yore!

Sending with them perfumed fragrence

Though we cannot see them more.

And again the children wander

O're the hilltops many hours

With their hearts all filled with gladness

Searching for the beauteous flowers.

 

Many were the times we wandered

In the gladsome summer time

Through the fields of scented clover

Oh! the scene it was sublime.

And the streamlet in the valley

As it trickled on its way,

Its very mossy banks inviting

Boys and girls out there to play.

 

But the days to years have lengthened

Many years since then have passed

Yet sometimes we cast reflections

To those days that could not last,

Knowing nothing of the troubles

That confront us of today

As we tread the rugged pathway

Over which we hold no sway.