Songs of Travel: VII. Whither Must I Wander?

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 let it stand, now the friends are all departed

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

Spring shall come, come again, calling up the moor-fowl

Spring shall bring the sun and 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