The poems of Madison Cawein | ||
196
AN OLD SONG
I
It's, Oh, for the hills, where the wind's some oneWith a vagabond foot that follows!
And a cheer-up hand that he claps upon
Your arm with the hearty words, “Come on!
We'll soon be out of the hollows,
My heart!
We'll soon be out of the hollows!”
II
It 's, Oh, for the songs, where the hope 's some oneWith a renegade foot that doubles!
And a kindly look that he turns upon
Your face with the friendly laugh, “Come on!
We 'll soon be out of the troubles,
My heart!
We 'll soon be out of the troubles!”
The poems of Madison Cawein | ||