An old farmhouse with meadows wide,  
And sweet with clover on either side;  
A bright-eyed boy who looks from out  
The door, with woodbine wreathed about,  
And wishes this one thought all the day:  
"Oh, if I could but fly away  
From this dull spot, the world to see,  
How happy, how happy, I would be."  

Amid the city's constant din  
A man who round the world has been;  
Who 'mid the tumult and the throng  
Is thinking, thinking all day long:  
"Oh, could I only tread once more  
The field path to the farmhouse door,  
The old green meadows could I see,  
How happy, how happy I would be."