We long for her, we yearn for her--
Yes, ardently we yearn For her return.
Recalling those beloved days (Days intimate with ways Of friends so near to us And life so dear to us), We yearn unspeakably for her return.
And come she must. . .Yet while we trust We soon may see the passing of this agony Which makes intrusive years still seem A fearsome dream, We know that when she comes She really comes not back again.
She'll come in other guise And under fairer skies--And yet to bitter pain!
That day she went away Our homes with laughing youth were filled.
Where then was happiness Is now distress, The laughter stilled;For when she left Youth followed her-
We stay bereft.
So all our golden joy For what she brings Must carry gray alloy:
The sorrow that she can not lay, The mysery that she can not stay-While all the gladsome songs she sings Must bear for undertones Old sighs and echoed moans.
As they who go away In flush of youth May come quite worn and gray And bringing naught but ruth-So, when the strife shall cease, And when she comes at last, When all the armies vast Shall at her feet Kneel down to greet Thrice welcome Peace, This world will be so changed (So many dear ones dead, So many friends estranged, So many blessings fled, So many wonted ways forever barred, So many coming days forever marred)That then She truly comes not back again--She, the Peace we knew.
Yet how we long for her!
How ardently we yearn For her return!
