Edward Shann,
Cattle Chosen
(1926)
“ Tho' the halls of the wealthy no more shall invite me to join in their revels, or feast at their board, Tho' the soft strains of music no longer delight me, Though I'm spoiled of whate'er the gay world can afford, Though rarely society's voice can deliver My soul from its thoughts, my abode from its gloom Where the depths of the wood, and the still rolling river Afford me the spot where I've chosen a home, Yet do I repine not ”
