- He is the happy wanderer, who goes,
Singing upon the way, with eyes awake
To every scene, with ears alert to take
The sweetness of all sounds; who loves and knows
The secrets of the highway, and the rose
Holds fairer for the wounds that briars make.
- The Happy Wanderer (1895).
- We shall lodge at the sign of the Grave, you say;
Well, the road is a long one we trudge, my friend,
So why should we grieve at the break of the day?
Let us sing, let us drink, let us love, let us play,--
We can keep our sights for the journey's end.
- It may be we shall know in the hereafter
Why we, begetting hopes, give birth to fears,
And why the world's too beautiful for laughter,
Too gross for tears.