Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/221

 We’ve finished up the filthy war; We’ve won what we were fighting for… (Or have we? I don’t know). But anyway I have my wish: I’m back upon the old Boul’ Mich’ And how my heart’s aglow! Though in my coat’s an empty sleeve, ''Ah! do not think I ever grieve'' (The pension for it, I believe, Will keep me on the go).

So I’ll be free to write and write, And give my soul to sheer delight, Till joy is almost pain; To stand aloof and watch the throng, And worship youth and sing my song Of faith and hope again; To seek for beauty everywhere, To make each day a living prayer That life may not be vain.

To sing of things that comfort me, The joy in mother-eyes, the glee Of little ones at play; The blessed gentleness of trees, Of old men dreaming at their ease Soft afternoons away; Of violets and swallows’ wings,