Homesick

Written after speaking with a woman from the British Isles.

HOMESICK


O’er the hills so green
Thro’ gorse, hedgerow thick
Fairest land e’er seen
Oh, Lord I’m homesick

Pass thro’ the sweet mist
Listen to the fairy’s harp
The sadness weighs heaviest
The pain cuts e’er sharp

The history of the land
Speaks down thro’ the years
Oh, ‘tis very grand
‘Tis music to my ears

From the ruined castles on high
Across the green meadows low
The wind does make me sigh
As ‘cross my face it blows

Whene’er I feel this way
I hide my face from all
I want to run away
To answer homes sweet call