I Thou who hast made thy dwelling fair With flowers beneath, above with starry lights, And set thine altars everywhere,— On mountain heights, In woodlands dim with many a dream, In valleys bright with springs,
And on the curving capes of ever...
I think that I shall never seeA billboard lovely as a
Indeed, unless the billboards fallI'll never see a tree at all
OT and light-hearted,
I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose
Ho, a
Whereon we may up and away,
With a fetterless wind that is out on the downs,
And there piping a call to the fallow and shore,