translated by J. Logie Robertson

“ Then forth with vigorous brain, elastic tread,
Hope singing at your heart o'er sorrow dead,
And strength for fifty miles, and still to spare!
That joy was ours! O memory! oft restore us
Those autumn runs, here in the smoky town,
When through the woods our mad nomadic chorus
Rang freedom up and civilization down!
Io! my hearts! the world was all before us,
And we nor owned nor envied king nor crown! ”