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How brightly glistening in the sun     The woodland ivy plays!     While yonder beeches from their barks     Reflect his silver rays.     That sun surveys a lovely scene     From softly smiling skies;     And wildly through unnumbered trees     The wind of winter sighs:     Now loud, it thunders o'er my head,     And now in distance dies.     But give me back my barren hills     Where colder breezes rise;     Where scarce the scattered, stunted trees     Can yield an answering swell,     But where a wilderness of heath     Returns the sound as well.     For yonder garden, fair and wide,     With groves of evergreen,     Long winding walks, and borders trim,     And velvet lawns between;     Restore to me that little spot,     With grey walls compassed round,     Where knotted grass neglected lies,     And weeds usurp the ground.     Though all around this mansion high     Invites the foot to roam,     And though its halls are fair within     Oh, give me back my HOME!