Here in the beautiful valley, here where the fair rivers meeting,
Mingle their waters in silence and wander afar to the sea,
Now does thy son returning offer thee homage and greeting,
Now do my wandering footsteps turn, O Mother, to thee.
Gleam in the light of the sunset cross and turret and tower,
Mirrored majestic and silent down by the willow-clad shore;
Far through the valley resounding, telling the evensong hour,
Echoes the old bell's tolling, calling me back once more.
Here in the halls where I lingered, there in the woods where I wandered,
On campus and river and hillside other young lives are aglow,
Dreaming the dreams that I dreamed, thinking the thoughts that I pondered
Deeming the pathway long and the swift-footed hours slow.
Rejoice young hearts in your youth, morn is the time for gladness,
Time to sow for a harvest which all too soon you must reap;
Bright be the hour of your noontide with never a shadow of sadness,
Golden the gleam of your evening with silence and rest and sleep.
Glows the west crimson and gold far down the glorious river,
Cross and tower and turret fade in the gloom of the night;
Yet will my heart remember both Mother and sons forever,
Far though the pathway may lead me, swift though the years in their flight.