——Who’ll think of me when I am gone?
Go plow the wave, and sow the sand;
Throw seed to every wind that blows;
Along the highway strew thy hand,
And fatten on the crop that grows.
For even thus the man that roams
On heedless hearts his feeling spends;
Strange tenant of a thousand homes,
And friendless, with ten thousand friends!
Yet here, for once, I’ll leave a trace,