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SAM WALTER FOSS
American poet and librarian
(1858 - 1911)

The woods were made for the hunter of dreams,
  The brooks for the fishers of song;
    To the hunters who hunt for the gunless game
      The streams and the woods belong.
        There are thoughts that moan from the soul of pine
          And thoughts in a flower bell curled;
            And thoughts that are blown with scent of the fern
              Are as new and as old as the world.
      - Bloodless Sportsman [Chase]

Let me live in my house by the side of the road,
  Where the race of men go by;
    They are good, they are bad; they are weak, they are strong,
      Wise, foolish,--so am I;
        Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat,
          Or hurl the cynic's ban?
            Let me live in my house by the side of the road,
              And be a friend to man.
      - House by the Side of the Road
        [Hospitality]

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
  In the place of their self-content;
    There are souls like stars that dwell apart,
      In a fellowless firmament;
        There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
          Where highways never ran,--
            But let me live by the side of the road,
              And be a friend to man.
      - House by the Side of the Road
        [Hospitality]

W'en you see a man in woe,
  Walk right up and say "hullo."
    Say "hullo" and "how d'ye do,"
      "How's the world a-usin' you?"
        . . . .
          W'en you travel through the strange
            Country t'other side the range,
              Then the souls you've cheered will know
                Who you be, an' say "hullo."
      - Hullo [Humanity]

"Oh, ship ahoy!" rang out the cry;
  "Oh, give us water or we die!"
    A voice came o'er the waters far,
      "Just drop your bucket where you are."
        And then they dipped and drank their fill
          Of water fresh from mead and hill;
            And then they knew they sailed upon
              The broad mouth of the Amazon.
      - Opportunity [Opportunity]

Seek not for fresher founts afar,
  Just drop your bucket where you are;
    And while the ship right onward leaps,
      Uplift it from the exhaustless deeps.
        Parch not your life with dry despair;
          The stream of hope flow everywhere--
            So under every sky and star,
              Just drop your bucket where you are.
      - Opportunity [Opportunity]

A hundred thousand men were led
  By one calf near three centuries dead;
    They followed still his crooked way
      And lost a hundred years a day;
        For thus such reverence is lent
          To well established precedent.
      - The Calf-Path [Boston : Precedent]

One day through the primeval wood
  A calf walked home as good calves should;
    But made a trail all bent askew,
      A crooked trail as all calves do.
        . . . .
          And men two centuries and a half
            Trod in the footsteps of that calf.
      - The Calf-Path [Boston : Precedent]

Bring me men to match my mountains,
  Bring me men to match my plains,
    Men with empires in their purpose,
      And new eras in their brains.
      - The Coming American [America]


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