Over the hills and far away,
A place of flowers crowns a rise;
And there our year, from May to May,
Comes with a breath of Paradise;
There the small helpless soul that lies
So sweetly, innocently gay,
In little furry things at play,
With perfect trust can meet our eyes;
Over the hills and far away,
Over the hills.
Over the hills and far away,
In every rose a dream we prize,
While thousand tender memories
Flutter about the lilac-spray;
To-day, to-morrow, yesterday—
Each unto each make glad replies;
Over the hills and far away,
Over the hills.