Wafts onward many a gleesome wherry,
And this last skiff moves from the brink
So laden that it seems to sink.
Ev’n from the far hills’ winding way
I’ the sunshine glitter their garments gay.
I hear the hamlet’s noisy mirth;
Here is the people’s heaven on earth,
And great and small rejoice to-day.
Here may I be a man, here dare
The joys of men with men to share.