Give to me the life I love, let the lave go by me,

Give the jolly heaven above, and the byway nigh me.

Bed in the bush with stars to see, bread I dip in the river—

There’s the life for a man like me, there’s the life forever.

Let the blow fall soon or late, let what will be o’er me;

Give the face of earth around, and the road before me.

Wealth I seek not, hope nor love, nor a friend to know me;

All I seek, the heaven above, and the road below me.

Or let autumn fall on me where afield I linger,

Silencing the bird on tree, biting the blue finger.

White as meal the frosty field—warm the fireside haven—

Not to autumn will I yield, not to winter even!

--Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)