To me is barr'd the door of joy and ease;
There stand I as an orphan, lone, forlorn,
And nothing boots me that I frequent knock.
Strange that on every hand the shower should fall,
...
Alas! Where have all the years gone?
Did I dream my life, or is it real?
What I always thought - was that something?
Then I've slept and don't know itâ?¦
...
Give me the scorn of the stars and a peak defiant;
Wail of the pines and a wind with the shout of a giant;
Night and a trail unknown and a heart reliant.
Give me to live and love in the old, bold fashion;
A soldier's billet at night and a soldier's ration;
A heart that leaps to the fight with a soldier's passion.
