THE END OF THE ROAD
In these boots and with this staffTwo hundred leaguers and a halfWalked I, went I, paced I, tripped I,Marched I, held I, skelped I, slipped I,Pushed I, panted, swung and dashed I;Picked I, forded, swam and splashed I,Strolled I, climbed I, crawled and scrambled,Dropped and dipped I, ranged and rambled;Plodded I, hobbled I, trudged and tramped I,And in lonely spinnies camped I,And in haunted pinewoods slept I,Lingered, loitered, limped and crept I,Clambered, halted, stepped and leapt I;Slowly sauntered, roundly strode I,And ... (Oh! Patron saints and AngelsThat protect the four Evangels!And you Prophets vel majoresVel incerti, vel minores,Virgines ac confessoresChief of whose peculiar gloriesEst in Aula Regis stareAtque orare et exorareEt clamare et conclamareClamantes cum clamoribusPro Nobis Peccatoribus.)Let me not conceal it....Rode I.(For who but critics could complainOf “riding” in a railway train?)Across the valley and the high-land,With all the world on either handDrinking when I had a mind to,Singing when I felt inclined to;Nor ever turned my face to homeTill I had slaked my heart at Rome.
In these boots and with this staffTwo hundred leaguers and a halfWalked I, went I, paced I, tripped I,Marched I, held I, skelped I, slipped I,Pushed I, panted, swung and dashed I;Picked I, forded, swam and splashed I,Strolled I, climbed I, crawled and scrambled,Dropped and dipped I, ranged and rambled;Plodded I, hobbled I, trudged and tramped I,And in lonely spinnies camped I,And in haunted pinewoods slept I,Lingered, loitered, limped and crept I,Clambered, halted, stepped and leapt I;Slowly sauntered, roundly strode I,And ... (Oh! Patron saints and AngelsThat protect the four Evangels!And you Prophets vel majoresVel incerti, vel minores,Virgines ac confessoresChief of whose peculiar gloriesEst in Aula Regis stareAtque orare et exorareEt clamare et conclamareClamantes cum clamoribusPro Nobis Peccatoribus.)Let me not conceal it....Rode I.(For who but critics could complainOf “riding” in a railway train?)Across the valley and the high-land,With all the world on either handDrinking when I had a mind to,Singing when I felt inclined to;Nor ever turned my face to homeTill I had slaked my heart at Rome.
In these boots and with this staff
Two hundred leaguers and a half
Walked I, went I, paced I, tripped I,
Marched I, held I, skelped I, slipped I,
Pushed I, panted, swung and dashed I;
Picked I, forded, swam and splashed I,
Strolled I, climbed I, crawled and scrambled,
Dropped and dipped I, ranged and rambled;
Plodded I, hobbled I, trudged and tramped I,
And in lonely spinnies camped I,
And in haunted pinewoods slept I,
Lingered, loitered, limped and crept I,
Clambered, halted, stepped and leapt I;
Slowly sauntered, roundly strode I,
And ... (Oh! Patron saints and Angels
That protect the four Evangels!
And you Prophets vel majores
Vel incerti, vel minores,
Virgines ac confessores
Chief of whose peculiar glories
Est in Aula Regis stare
Atque orare et exorare
Et clamare et conclamare
Clamantes cum clamoribus
Pro Nobis Peccatoribus.)
Let me not conceal it....Rode I.
(For who but critics could complain
Of “riding” in a railway train?)
Across the valley and the high-land,
With all the world on either hand
Drinking when I had a mind to,
Singing when I felt inclined to;
Nor ever turned my face to home
Till I had slaked my heart at Rome.