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A-ROVING
O, the world is wondrous fair
When the tide of life's at flood!
There is magic in the air,
There is music in the blood;
And a glamour draws us on
To the Distance, rainbow-spanned,
And the road we tread upon
Is the road to Fairyland.
Lo! the elders hear the sweet
Voice, and know the wondrous song;
And their ancient pulses beat
To a tune forgotten long;
And they talk in whispers low,
With a smile and with a sigh,
Of the years of long ago,
And the roving days gone by.
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