Visite de la Cathédrale d’Amiens, des tours et du trésor Août 2025
Home no more home to me. Wiither must I wonder. Hunger my driver I go where I must. Cold blows the winter wind over hill and heather. Thick drives the rain and my roof is in the dust. Love of wise men was the shade of my roof tree. The true word of welcome was spoken in the door. Dear days of old, with the faces in the far light, kind folks of old, you come again no more. Home was home then, my dear. Full of kindly faces. Home was home then, my dear. Happy for the child. Fire and the windows bright glittered on the more land. Song tuneful song. built a palace in the wild. Now when day dawn on the brow of the mand stands the house and the chimney stone is cold. Don’t let it stand now. The friends are all departed. The kind hearts, the true hearts that loved the place of old. Spring shall come, come again, calling up the more foul. Spring shall bring the sun and rain. Bring the bees and flowers. Red shall the heather bloom over hill and valley. Soft flow the stream through the even flowing arms. Fair the day shine as it shone on my childhood. Fair shine the day on the house with open door. Birds come and cry there and twitter in the chimney. Home no more home to me. Whether must I wonder hunger my driver I go where I must. Cold blows the winter wind over hill and heather. Thick drives the rain and my roof is in the dust. Love of wise men was the shade of my roof tree. The true word of welcome was spoken in the door. Dear days of old, with the faces in the far light, kind folks of old, you come again no more. Home was home then, my dear. Full of kindly faces. Home was home then, my dear. Happy for the child. Fire and the windows bright glittered on the more land. Song tuneful song. built a palace in the wild. Now when day dawn on the brow of the mand stands the house and the chimney stone is cold. Don’t let it stand now. The friends are all departed. The kind hearts, the true hearts that loved the place of old. Spring shall come, come again, calling up the more foul. Spring shall bring the sun and rain. Bring the bees and flowers. Red shall the heather bloom over hill and valley. Soft flow the stream through the even flowing arms. Fair the day shine as it shone on my childhood. Fair shine the day on the house with open door. Birds come and cry there and twitter in the chimney. Home no more home to me. Wiither must I wonder. Hunger, my driver, I go where I must. Cold blows the winter wind over hill and heather thick drives the rain and my roof is in the dust. Loved of wise men was the shade of my roof tree. The true word of welcome was spoken in the door. Dear days of old, with the faces in the far light, kind folks of old, you come again no more. Home was home then, my dear. Full of kindly faces. Home was home then, my dear. Happy for the child. Fire and the windows bright glittered on the more land. Song tuneful song. built a palace in the wild. Now when dayons on the brow of the mand stands the house and the chimney stone is cold. Don’t let it stand now. The friends are all departed. The kind hearts, the true hearts that loved the place of old. Spring shall come, come again, calling up the more foul. Spring shall bring the sun and rain. Bring the bees and flowers. Red shall the heather bloom over hill and valley. Soft flow the stream through the even flowing