From fair Sorrento's sunny clime
Where summer fountains ever play,
He laughing passed, once on a time,
Across the western hills away.

"O love," he whispered, "we must part,
I go to win you gold and fame,
Bright gems for you to wear, sweet-heart,
Perchance a proud and noble name."

"Ah! bring me back your love of old,
Sweet-heart, I ask, I ask no more;
For what were name or fame or gold,
Without the heart of yore!"

To fair Sorrento's vale at last,
A wand'rer comes, no more to roam,
The toiling years have slowly passed
And Love still softly calls him home!

He sees again, across his tears,
The happy world they used to know;
In tender tone once more he hears
The pleading words of long ago.

"Ah! bring me back your love of old,
Sweet-heart, I ask, I ask no more;
For what were name or fame or gold,
Without the heart of yore!"