Beyond the fields I know,

There is a quiet stream

Where days that are long forgotten,

Appear upon my dreams.

 

In silent notes of morning

The crystal dance begins,

The shining rays of sunlight

Take me home again.

 

And on the gleaming slopes

The dewy grass awakes,

The dark starlight of rejoicing

Over my young heart will break.

 

Perhaps the tune is mocking

Of some unanswered song,

But beyond the fields I know

Is where I belong.

 

Amongst the trembling pebbles,

Are pages so forlorn

The tracks of winter faded,

On some celestial morn

 

And glowing in the frost,

Come the remnants of the sun

And the nodding of the trees,

To the horns that call me home.