THE SONG OF A TRAMP.
(By Joyce Squire, Dargaville; age 13.)
Oft have I wished for a cottage small, Hid among pine trees, fresh and tall; Here would I dwell in perfect peace, And care and strife of the world would cease. Oft have I wished for the crackling log, By which I'd sit in times of fog; And if the wind round the house did whine, I'd creep closer to this fire of mine. Oft have I wished that I had a bed, Where I could lay my weary head, Upon the downy pillow white, And sleep in peace throughout the night. Oft have I wished for a garden sweet, And under the, trees a rustic seat; A fresh green lawn where fountains play, Sparkling like gems all through the day. Roses I'd have and daffodils, Pansiee, lilies and sweet jonquils; And shy wee violets peeping through, Their dainty leaves to look at you. But I don't want any rates to pay, Or work to do the livelong day; I want to roam, I want to wonder, Upon these wishes I'll not ponder. Ah! And I love the scent of hay, Whereon I've slept at ebb of day; I love the sky for a roof at night, I almost love the cold wind's bite. Yes, 'tis the long, white, road for me, And wide, green meadows fresh and free; Calling me on in the rush of life, Calling m~i on amidst the strife.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/AS19310704.2.211.3.3
Bibliographic details
Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 156, 4 July 1931, Page 2 (Supplement)
Word Count
244THE SONG OF A TRAMP. Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 156, 4 July 1931, Page 2 (Supplement)
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