From the mountains to the champaign,
  By the glens and hills along,
Comes a rustling and a tramping,
  Comes a motion as of song :
And this undetermined roving
  Brings delight and brings good heed ;
And thy striving be't with Loving,
  And thy living, be't in Deed !

Keep not standing, fixed and rooted,
  Briskly venture, briskly roam :
Head and hand where'er thou foot it,
  And stout heart, are still at home.
In each land the sun does visit
  We are gay, whate'er betide :
To give room for wandering is it
  That the world was made so wide.