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The ash grove, how graceful, how plainly to speaking
The harp through it playing has language for me;
Whenever the light through its branches is breaking,
A host of kind faces is gazing on me,
The friends of my childhood again are before me.
Each step wakes a memory as freely I roam.
With soft whispers laden its leaves rustle o'er me,
The ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home.
My lips smile no more; my heart loses its lightness,
No dream of the future my spirit can cheer.
I only can brood on the past and its brightness.
The dead I have mourned are again living here.
From every dark nook they press forward to meet me;
I lift up my eyes to the broad leafy dome,
And others are there, looking downward to greet me.
The ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home.
- Album:
- Miscellaneous
- The Very Best Of Roger Whittaker
- Best Of Roger Whittaker - Ultimative Hits
- Musical: Hits!
- Sometimes Late at Night
- Einfach leben - Best of - Live um die Welt
- Pop Masters: From The People - Live-reworked
- The Best, Live! (Live)
- The Last Farewell In Concert
- All Of My Life
- The Best, Live!
- The Best of Roger Whittaker
- 24 Golden Hits
- The Very Best of Roger Whittaker, Volume 2
- The Very Best Of
- The Very Best of Roger Whittaker, Vol. 2
- Raritäten
- Very Best Of - Volume 2
- Take a Little - Give a Little
- Roger Whittaker