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Normandy
When all the land’s alive again
With winter far away,
And heaven over France again
Is fairer than to-day,
When spring puts off her gray for green,
And swallows all return--
Then I’ll go back to Normandy,
The land where I was born.
I know the fields of Switzerland,
The peaks and icy meres;
I know the skies of Italy,
I know the gondoliers;
But let me wander where I will,
I say that I’ll return
To Normandy, my Normandy,
The land where I was born.