I stand in a land of roses,
But I dream of a land of snow,
Where you and I were happy,
In the years of long ago.
Nightingales in the branches,
Stars in tbe magic skies,
But I only hear you singing,
I only see your eyes.

Come! come! come to me Thora,
Come once again and be
Child of my dream, light of my life,
Angel of love to me!

I stand again in the North land,
But in silence and in shame;
Your grave is my only landmark,
And men have forgotten my name.
'Tis a tale that is truer and older
Than any the sagas tell,
I lov'd you in life too little,
I love you in death too well.

Speak! speak! speak to me Thora,
Speak from your Heav'n to me;
Child of my dream, love of my life,
Hope of my world to be!