Sam Walter Foss

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
There are souls like read more

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
There are souls like stars that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
Where highways never ran,--
But let me live by the side of the road,
And be a friend to man.

One day through the primeval wood
A calf walked home as good calves should;
But made a read more

One day through the primeval wood
A calf walked home as good calves should;
But made a trail all bent askew,
A crooked trail as all calves do.
. . . .
And men two centuries and a half
Trod in the footsteps of that calf.

Bring me men to match my mountains,
Bring me men to match my plains,
Men with empires read more

Bring me men to match my mountains,
Bring me men to match my plains,
Men with empires in their purpose,
And new eras in their brains.

A hundred thousand men were led
By one calf near three centuries dead;
They followed still his read more

A hundred thousand men were led
By one calf near three centuries dead;
They followed still his crooked way
And lost a hundred years a day;
For thus such reverence is lent
To well established precedent.

W'en you see a man in woe,
Walk right up and say "hullo."
Say "hullo" and "how read more

W'en you see a man in woe,
Walk right up and say "hullo."
Say "hullo" and "how d'ye do,"
"How's the world a-usin' you?"
. . . .
W'en you travel through the strange
Country t'other side the range,
Then the souls you've cheered will know
Who you be, an' say "hullo."