Classic Poem

Once in the windy wintry weather,
The road dust blowing in our eyes,
We starved or tramped or slept together
Beneath the haystacks and the skies;

Until the tiring tramp was over,
And then the call for him was blown,
He left his friend — his fellow-rover —
To tramp the dusty roads alone.

The winds wail and the woods are yellow,
The hills are blotted in the rain,
" And would he were with me, " sighs his fellow,
" With me upon the roads again! "