By the dark waves of the rolling sea,Where the white sail\u27d ships are tossing free,Came a youthful maiden, Pale and sorrow laden,With a mournful voice sang she:Oh! take me back to Switzerland, My own, my dear, my native land,I\u27ll brave all dander of the main,To see my own dear land again. La la la...
2I see its hills, I see its streams,Its blue lakes haunt my restless dreams;When the day delclineth,Or the bright sun shineth,Present still its beauty seems.Oh! take me back to Switzerland,Upon the mountains let me stand,Where the flowers are bright and skies are clera,For oh! I pine, I perish here! La, la, la...
3For months along that gloomy shore,\u27Mid seabirds cry and ocean\u27s roarSave that mournful maiden,Pale and sorrow laden,Then her voice was heard no more;Far, far away from Switzerland,From home, from friends, from native land,Where foreign wild flowers coldly leaveThe broken hearted found a grave. La, la, la...
