Each Cooing Dove And Sighing Bough,
That Makes The Eve So Blest To Me,
Has Something Far Diviner Now,
It Bears Me Back To Galilee.
O Galilee, Sweet Galilee,
Where Jesus Loved So Much To Be,
O Galilee, Blue Galilee,
Come Sing Thy Song Again To Me.
Each Flowery Glen And Mossy Dell,
Where Happy Birds In Song Agree,
Through Sunny Morn The Praises Tell
Of Sights And Sounds In Galilee.
And When I Read The Thrilling Lore
Of Him Who Walked Upon The Sea,
I Long, Oh, How I Long Once More
To Follow Him In Galilee.
