When Spring unfolds the beechen leaf, and sap is in the bough
When light is on the wild-wood stream, and wind is on the brow
When stride is long, and breath is deep, and keen the mountain-air
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is fair!
When Spring is come to garth and field, and corn is in the blade
When blossom like a shining snow is on the orchard laid
When shower and Sun upon the Earth with fragrance fill the air
I'll linger here, and will not come, because my land is fair
When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of gold
Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves the dreams of trees unfold
When woodland halls are green and cool, and wind is in the West
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is best!
When Summer warms the hanging fruit and burns the berry brown
When straw is gold, and ear is white, and harvest comes to town
When honey spills, and apple swells, though wind be in the West
I'll linger here beneath the Sun, because my land is best!
When Winter comes, the winter wild that hill and wood shall slay
When trees shall fall and starless night devour the sunless day
When wind is in the deadly East, then in the bitter rain
I'll look for thee, and call to thee; I'll come to thee again!
When Winter comes, and singing ends; when darkness falls at last
When broken is the barren bough, and light and labour past
I'll look for thee, and wait for thee, until we meet again
Together we will take the road beneath the bitter rain!
Together we will take the road that leads into the West
And far away will find a land where both our hearts may rest
