Land in the Ocean/The Way-Worn Traveller
For other versions of this work, see The Way-worn Traveller.
THE WAY WORN TRAVELLER
Faint and wearily the way-worn traveller,Plods uncheerily, afraid to stop:Wandering drearily a sad unraveller,of the mazes 'tward the mountain's top:Doubting, fearing,As his course he's steering,Cottages appearingAs he's nigh to drop:Oh! how briskly then the way-worn traveller,Treads the mazes 'tward the mountains top.
Though now melancholy day has pass'd by,would be folly now to think on't more;Blithe and Jolly he the cag holds fast by,As he's sitting at the goatherd's door.Eating quaffing,At past labours laughing,Better far, by half, inSpirits than before;Oh! how merry then the rested traveller,Seems while sitting at the goat-herd's door