Those friends who are far, far away,
May be thoughtful and generous indeed to a fault
And kindness itself every day.
Not even the hills with the mist on the top
In my heart for the place I call home.
They are washed with the dews of the morn.
The lilt of the trees and the song of the birds
Once so cheery have sobered their tone,
For my heartstrings are tied, to a little fireside
In a place that I love to call home.
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1 loam | |
n.沃土 | |
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2 fret | |
v.(使)烦恼;(使)焦急;(使)腐蚀,(使)磨损 | |
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3 misty | |
adj.雾蒙蒙的,有雾的 | |
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4 prey | |
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
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5 longings | |
渴望,盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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