O heart of mine, why sighest
For joys thou may'st not taste?
O eyes, why turn in longing
Across the weary waste?
And lips that falter sadly
Of home and love and peace,
Now all thy vain repining
And doubt and grief, oh, cease!
Home! Nay, thy home is distant;
Will longing bring it near,
And heart, will thy complaining
Point out the way more clear?
O heart of mine, thou sighest
In vain, thy home's afar;
It shineth as a beacon
To exile—as a star
Unto the lonely sailor
Who dreams of land and love,
But as he dreams looks ever
Unto his star above!
Then, heart, bind to thy longing
The gaze that turns aloft
Beyond the raging tempest
To seek love's guidance oft.
Heimweh! O homesick sailor,
Across life's stormy main
Return unto thy haven,
No more to roam again!