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There are hermit souls that live withdrawn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There are hermit souls that live withdrawn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.

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.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road and be a friend to man.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road and be a friend to man.

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."