To fall asleep in your embrace,Land of our dreams, what bliss,O you our cradle, you our grave,You the new hope we ever crave,Peninsula so beautiful,Finland for aye our all!
No clouds are in the morning sky, The vapors hug the stream, Who says that life and love can die In all this northern gleam? At every turn the maples burn, The quail is whistling free, The partridge whirs, and the frosted burs Are dropping for you and me. Ho! hillyho! heigh O! Hillyho! In the clear October morning.