WHEN I hear the north wind It never fails to bring,
of for-get-me-nots
And sunny days in spring.
And O! the east wind carries
Upon its sail,
The tho’t of pink arbutus
In some vale.
And how I’d like to gather
When winds are in the west,
A of orange blossoms
To hold against my breast.
But O! I love the south wind
That breathes across the ,
For O! the tender south wind
Just whispers dear “come home!”