YE WEARIE WAYFARER 



Some toil for their church, and some for their 

 state, 



And some for their merchandise ; 

 Some traffic and trade in the city's mart, 



Some travel by land and sea, 

 Some follow science, some cleave to art, 



And some to scandal and tea ; 



And some for their country and their queen 



Would fight, if the chance they had. 

 Good sooth, 'twere a sorry world, I ween, 



If we all went galloping mad ; 

 Yet if once we efface the joys of the chase 



From the land, and out-root the Stud, 

 Good-bye to the Anglo-Saxon Race ! 



Farewell to the Norman Blood! 



Where the burn runs down to the uplands 

 brown 

 From the heights of the snow-clad range, 

 What anodyne drawn from the stifling town 



Can be reckon'd a fair exchange 

 For the stalker's stride, on the mountain 

 side, 

 In the bracing northern weather, 



37 



