OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY

Over the hills and far away, A little boy steals from his morning play And under the blossoming apple-tree He lies and he dreams of the things to be:

Of battles fought and of victories won, Of wrongs o'erthrown and of great deeds done — Of the valor that he shall prove some day, Over the hills and far away —

Over the hills, and far away! Over the hills and far away It's, oh, for the toil the livelong day! But it mattereth not to the soul aflame

With a love for riches and power and fame! On, O man! while the sun is high — On to the certain joys that lie Yonder where blazeth the noon of day,

Over the hills and far away — Over the hills, and far away! Over the hills and far away, An old man lingers at close of day;

Now that his journey is almost done, His battles fought and his victories won — The old-time honesty and truth, The trustfulness and the friends of youth,

Home and mother-where are they? Over the hills and far away — Over the years, and far away!