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There is a haw-thorn tree that I'm longing to see
Shed it's fragrance on many at the door of that stately old home far away o'er the foam
On the summit of sweet Laccamore.
Spare it, oh spare, only nurse it with care
It has charms for me by the score
And the robins sweet lays will resound in your praise
And re-echo around Laccamore.
Missouri's broad tide I have wandered beside
And I've heard the great Lakes' water roar
But the wail of my streams that I hear in my dreams
Sound sweeter to me Laccamore.
Oh! I pine for the glade and the(continues on next page)Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.