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How fondly loves the home-sick heart
To ponder o'er the past,
And pines for scenes then far apart,
To dwell--to die at last;
Though richer vales, and balmier gales,
May tempt the wanderer's stay,
His heart will long to be among
Some scenes far, far away!


O! memory ne'er can charm us so
As when it bids appear
The fields and friends of long ago,
The distant and the dear!
Though clime and care may waste and wear
The frame to dull decay,
They never will through change and chill
The love, far, far away!


Yet there for joy to come relies
the heart when faint and low,
to have some green vale glad our eyes,
Its breeze upon our brow!
Again beneath the sky to breathe,
Where dawn'd life's chequer'd day,
What thoughts will burn--what feelings yearn,
When home is far away!