On the sunset borders of the mountains I stray, <br />Of a dear home dreaming 'yond the snow peaks far away, <br />While the bubbling brook beside me goes dancing along, <br />As it seeks the "Golden Gate" of the ocean blue; <br />And a lone bird murmurs in the bush-top his song-- <br />"Pity me, Loo!" "Pity me, Loo!" "Pity me, Loo!" <br /> <br />Tra la la la, la la la la <br />From mate to mate the carol rings: <br />Tra la la la, la la la la! <br />la la la la <br />A thousand valleys through; <br />Yet the lone bird sorrows as he plaintively sings-- <br />"Pity me, Loo!" "Pity me, Loo!" "Pity me, Loo!" <br /> <br />'Neath the rocks I'm treading there are treasures of gold, <br />But by far more precious is my own native mold. <br />Nevermore, in search of Beauty need Fancy take wings: <br />Here is beauty, here is grandeur, at ev'ry view; <br />Yet my heart grows heavy, and the lone bird still sings-- <br />"Pity me, Loo!" "Pity me, Loo!" "Pity me, Loo!" <br /> <br />In the green-clad valley where the wayward brook mends <br />There are homes most charming--there are warmhearted friends. <br />Lovely dell! it seems an Eden, afloat in mid-air, <br />As if God had sent from Heaven a creation new; <br />But its charm is broken, for my heart is not there-- <br />"Pity me, Loo!" "Pity me, Loo!" "Pity me, Loo!"<br /><br />Henry Clay Work<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pity-me-loo/
