Robert Louis Stevenson



                   The Vagabond

                   (from Songs Of Travel)

                   (To an air of Schubert)


                   Give to me the life I love,
                     Let the lave go by me,
                   Give the jolly heaven above
                     And the byway night me.
                   Bed in the bush with stars to see,
                     Bread I dip in the river —
                   There's the life for a man like me,
                     There's the life for ever.
                   
                   Let the blow fall soon or late,
                     Let what will be o'er me;
                   Give the face of earth around
                     And the road before me.
                   Wealth I seek not, hope nor love,
                     Nor a friend to know me;
                   All I seek, the heaven above
                     And the road below me.
                       
                   Or let autumn fall on me
                     Where afield I linger,
                   Silencing the bird on tree,
                     Biting the blue finger;
                   White as meal the frosty field —
                     Warm the fireside haven —
                   Not to autumn will I yield,
                     Not to winter even!
                   
                   Let the blow fall soon or late,
                     Let what will be o'er me;
                   Give the face of earth around,
                     And the road before me.
                   Wealth I ask not, hope nor love,
                     Nor a friend to know me.
                   All I ask, the heaven above
                     And the road below me.


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