Written at Caudebec in Normandy

When life is crazy in my limbs,
And hope is gone astray,
And in my soul's December fade
The love-thoughts of its May,
One spot of earth is left to me
Will warm my heart again:
'T is Caudebec and Mailleraie
On the pleasant banks of Seine.

The dark wood's crownal on the hill,
The river curving bright.
The graceful barks that rest or play,
Pure creatures of delight,—
0, these are shows by nature given
To warm old hearts again.
At Caudebec and Mailleraie
On the pleasant banks of Seine.

The Tuscan's land, I loved it well,
And the Switzer's clime of snow,
And many a bliss me there befell
I nevermore can know:
But for quiet joy of nature's own
To warm the heart again,
Give me Caudebec and Mailleraie
On the pleasant banks of Seine.