OVER the rim of the moor, And under the starry sky, Two men came to my door And rested them thereby. Beneath the bough and the star, In a whispering foreign tongue They talked of a land afar And the merry days so young. Beneath the dawn and the bough I heard them arise and go— And my heart it is aching now For the more it will never know. Why did they two depart Before I could understand? Where lies that land, O my heart— O my heart, where lies that land? |