Whither so swiftly the timid swallow?
What distant bourne seeks her untiring wing?
To reach it safe, what needle does she follow
When darkness wraps the poor wee storm tossed thing?

To build her nest near to my couch
I'll call her;
Why go so far skies bright and warm to keep;
Safe would she be;

No evil should befall her,
For I'm an exile sad, too sad to weep
My fatherland is dear but I too have left it;
Far am I from the spot where I was born;

Cheerless in life, fierce storms joy bereft it;
Made me an exile life-long and forlorn
Come then to me, sweet feathered pilgrim stranger;
Oh! let me clasp you to my loving breast

And lest your warbling safe from danger,
Unwanted tears bring relief and rest.