Would grow therein, where I might stray
With books, and pipe and dear Edmée.
Horses and dogs?... Yes, I’d not mind
Were I but ever sure to find
An hour of peace, at close of day
With books, and pipe and dear Edmée.
Travel?... Of course! The Frank might stare,
The Russian rave, the Turk despair;
I none the less would them survey
With books, and pipe and dear Edmée.