SONG

("THESE PRAIRIES GLOW WITH FLOWERS")

These prairies glow with flowers,

These groves are tall and fair,

The sweet lay of the mocking-bird

Rings in the morning air;

And yet I pine to see

My native hill once more,

And hear the Sparrow’s friendly chirp

Beside its cottage-door.

And he, for whom I left

My native hill and brook,

Alas, I sometimes think I trace

A coldness in his look!

If I have lost his love,

I know my heart will break;

And haply, they I left for him

Will sorrow for my sake.