From exile and disaster,
From banishment set free,
We shall return in sorrow,
Our homes once more to see.
The storm will surely finish,
The day must dawn at last,
The floods at length diminish,
The bitterness be past.
From Fatherland long-banished
( Oh, church in ruins low!
Oh, roofs and chimneys vanished! )
‘ Tis to our homes we go!
The land is torn asunder,
The orchard trees are bare;
A muttering of thunder
Still shakes the heavy air.
Yet life goes on undaunted:
With aching hearts, and sore,
To raise our hearths and altars
We shall return once more.