Hills and dales of ancient land, bleak, barren and glaring br Where my thoughtless, happy hours beguiling childhood strayed, br How the sand with ages of patina on me is warring, br Howl, moan winds of the past above my tufted shade! br br Now no more, yet I shall chase the hours beguiling, br Former favorite haunts I see; br Now no more my fields and trees of back days are smiling br Makes that seems a lost heaven to me.