Wither Must I Wonder

Home no more home to me, whither must I wander?

Hunger my driver, I go where I must

Cold blows the winter wind over hill and heather:

Thick drives the rain and my roof is in the dust

Loved of wise men was the shade of my roof-tree

The true word of welcome was spoken in the door -

Dear days of old with the faces in the firelight

Kind folks of old, you come again no more

Home was home then, my dear, full of kindly faces

Home was home then, my dear, happy for the child

Fire and the windows bright glittered on the moorland;

Song, tuneful song, built a palace in the wild

Now when day dawns on the brow of the moorland

Lone stands the house, and the chimney stone is cold

Lone lt it stand, now the friends are all departed

The kind hearts, the true hearts, that loved that place of old

Spring shall come, come again, calling up the moorfowl

Spring shall bring the sun and the rain, bring the bees and flowers;

Red shall the heather bloom over hill and valley

Soft flow the stream through the even-flowing hours

Fair the day shine as it shone on my childhood

Fair shine the day on the house with open door

Birds come and cry there and twitter in the chimney

But I go for ever and come again no more