When living seems but little worth
And all things go awry,
I close the door, we journey forth—
My dog and I!
For books and pen we leave behind,
But little careth he,
His one great joy in life is just To be with me.
He notes by just one upward glance
My mental attitude,
As on we go past laughing stream
And singing wood.
The soft winds have a magic touch
That brings to care release,
The trees are vocal with delight,
The rivers sing of peace.
How good it is to be alive!
Nature, the healer strong,
Has set each pulse with life athrill
And joy and song.
Discouragement! ‘Twas but a name,
And all things that annoy,
Out in the lovely world of June
Life seemeth only joy!
And ere we reach the busy town,
Like birds my troubles fly,
We are two comrades glad of heart—
My dog and I!
