Home-Sickness.
Translated from the German.
Were I a wild, wild falcon,
I'd soar away on high,
And seek my father's dwelling,
Beyond the far blue sky.
Against that well-known door then
I'd flap my wings with joy;
My mother from the window
Sees and admits her boy.
"Dear son!" she'd say; "O, welcome!
How often has my heart
Longed sadly to embrace thee;
Now here behold thou art!"
Thus memory still is dreaming
Of what can never be.
My long-lost home,—the loved ones,—
These eyes may never see.