Oh, lady! Sing that song again,
I'll sadly linger by;
I've heard it, on my native plain,
It then was able to unchain
Emotions high.

In youth I heard it, till the tears
In torrents found their way;
For loves, and joys, and hopes, and fears,
How strong their power in those young years
The mind to sway.

And when I hear thee, lady, sing,
Though far those times are gone;
It seems, as if each joyous thing,
More brightly waving memory's wing,
Came flying on.

I see once more my native vale,
Its birds once more I hear;
And when the evening shades prevail,
The oft-told, legendary tale
Arrests mine ear.

Oh, yes! 'Tis sweet thy voice to hear,
And memory's dreams are sweet;
And yet it wings the bitter tear,
To think, what youthful friends I ne'er
Again shall greet.