The Little White Road

Oh the little white road climbs over the hill

My feet they must follow, they cannot be still

Must follow and follow though far it may roam

Oh little white road, will you never come home?

Oh the hills they are patient and steadfast and wise

They look o'er the valleys and up to the skies

But the little white road scrambles up them and over

Oh little white road, you are ever the rover.

I fain would go with you right down to the sea

Where a ship with white sails would be waiting for me

Go sailing and sailing to strange lands afar

Where deserts and forests and lost cities are.

But when I grew weary of my gypsying ways

I'd sail home again for to end all my days

In the little grey cottage, beside the grey hill

But you, little road, would be wandering still.