(To an Air of Schubert)
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!
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 ask not, hope nor love, Nor a friend to know me. All I ask, the heaven above And the road below me.