The Road that Leads to Home
Reading edition
My road is a by-road, with big trees reaching high, A tapestry of living green against a sapphire sky; An olden road, a golden road, is the road I love to roam A gleaming road, a dreaming road, the road that leads to home. My road is a shy road, where whispering lovers stray And breathe the scent of the bramble-rose and fields of new-mown hay; A road to woo with a song or two, ere the day has yet begun, A smiling road, a beguiling road, that dips into the sun. My road is a by-road, where townfolk never tread, With wild wind flowers in the grass, and green leaves overhead; Oh, dawn-mist road, oh, star-kissed road, across the white sea foam I hear you crying, hear you sighing, calling the wand’rer home.
Ethel E. Mannin
Echoes from Vagabondia
The bed was made, the room was fit, by punctual eve the stars were lit. The air was still, the water ran, no need was there for maid or man, When we put up, my ass and I, at God’s green caravanserai.
Robert Louis Stevenson