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214
THINE.
Stand where the glaciers freeze and frown,
Where Alpine torrents flash and foam,
Or watch the loving sun go down
Behind the purple hills of Rome,
Leaving a twilight half divine:
Ich bin dein!
Where Alpine torrents flash and foam,
Or watch the loving sun go down
Behind the purple hills of Rome,
Leaving a twilight half divine:
Ich bin dein!
Thy steps may fall beside the Rhine:
Ich bin dein!
Slumber may kiss thy drooping lids
Amid the mazes of the Nile,
The shadow of the Pyramids
May cool thy feet,—yet all the while,
Though storms may beat, or stars may shine,
Ich bin dein!
Ich bin dein!
Slumber may kiss thy drooping lids
Amid the mazes of the Nile,
The shadow of the Pyramids
May cool thy feet,—yet all the while,
Though storms may beat, or stars may shine,
Ich bin dein!
Where smile the hills of Palestine,
Ich bin dein!
Where rise the mosques and minarets,—
Where every breath brings flowery balms,—
Where souls forget their dark regrets
Beneath the strange, mysterious palms,—
Where the banana builds her shrine,—
Ich bin dein!
Ich bin dein!
Where rise the mosques and minarets,—
Where every breath brings flowery balms,—
Where souls forget their dark regrets
Beneath the strange, mysterious palms,—
Where the banana builds her shrine,—
Ich bin dein!
