The Out-Of-Doors-Man

Give me a boat, a rod and gun,

     When summer days are long,

Up where the creek comes winding down,

And you may have your life in town,

     Your women, wine and song.

Give me a lonely, wooded walk

     Where feet have seldom trod,

And you may have your boulevards,

Cut paths and artificial yards

     Laid out by rule and rod.

Give me an open, blazing hearth

     A kitchen low and long;

A good old country dinner rare,

And you may have your hotel fare

     With its dyspeptic throng.

Give me a hard and horny grasp,

     An honest, fearless eye;

A skin that’s rough and weather-tanned,

And you may have the limpid hand,

     Of aristocracy.

June 9, 1904