The Deer don't dineWhen a Wolf's about,And the PorcupineSticks his quill-points out.
Commute with me, my Love, and be merry;How vain in the City to dwellWhen apple-trees blow in Dobbs' FerryAnd lilacs adorn New Rochelle!White Plains is the Garden of AllahAnd Pelham's the Pearl of the Sea;There's bliss in the name of Valhalla --Oh, fly to the Suburbs with me!Arthur Guiterman
Oh, who would choose to be a traveler? --That anxious railway-guide unravelerWho spends his nights in berths and bunks,His days in chaperoning trunks;Who stands in line at gates and wicketsTo spend his means on costly ticketsTo Irkutsk, Liverpool and YapAnd other dots upon the map.Arthur Guiterman
The Deer don't dine When a Wolf's about, And the Porcupine Sticks his quill-points out.Arthur Guiterman
When life is woe, and hope is dumb, the World says, "Go!" The Grave says, "Come!"Arthur Guiterman