The Highland Plaid (4)/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 travellerPlods uncheerily, afraid to stop:Wandering drearily, a sad unraveller,Of the mazes t'ward the mountain's top, Doubting, fearing While his course he's steering, Cottages appearing As he's nigh to drop,Oh! how briskly then the way-worn traveller Treads the mazes t'ward the mountain's top.
Though so melancholy day has passed by, 'Twould be folly now to think on't more:Blythe and jolly he the cag holds fast by, As he's sitting at the goat-herd's door, Eating, quaffing, At past labours laughing; Better far, by half, in Spirits than before.Oh! how merrily the rested traveller Seems, while sitting at the goat-herd's door.