Page:Songs from Vagabondia (1897).djvu/19
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In blisses and beauties!
Free as the voice
Of the wind as it passes!
Free as the bird
In the weft of the grasses!
Free as the word
Of the sun to the sea—
Free!
Free as the voice
Of the wind as it passes!
Free as the bird
In the weft of the grasses!
Free as the word
Of the sun to the sea—
Free!
A WAIF.
Do you know what it is to be vagrant born?
A waif is only a waif. And so,
For another idle hour I sit,
In large content while the fire burns low.
A waif is only a waif. And so,
For another idle hour I sit,
In large content while the fire burns low.
I gossip here to my crony heart
Of the day just over, and count it one
Of the royal elemental days,
Though its dreams were few and its deeds were none.
Of the day just over, and count it one
Of the royal elemental days,
Though its dreams were few and its deeds were none.
Outside, the winter; inside, the warmth
And a sweet oblivion of turmoil. Why?
All for a gentle girlish hand
With its warm and lingering good-bye.
And a sweet oblivion of turmoil. Why?
All for a gentle girlish hand
With its warm and lingering good-bye.
THE JOYS OF THE ROAD.
Now the joys of the road are chiefly these:
A crimson touch on the hard-wood trees;
A crimson touch on the hard-wood trees;
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