Song—These Prairies Glow with Flowers

These prairies glow with flowers,These groves are tall and fair,The sweet lay of the mocking birdRings in the morning air;And yet I pine to seeMy native hill once more,And hear the sparrow's friendly chirp:Beside its cottage door.

And he, for whom I leftMy native hill and brook,Alas, I sometimes think I traceA coldness in his look.If I have lost his loveI know my heart will break;And haply, they I left for himWill sorrow for my sake.