Explore "The Rover" by Virna Sheard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Though I follow a trail to north or south, / Though I travel east or west, / There's a little house on a quiet road / That my hidden heart loves best; / And when my journeys are over and done, / 'Tis there I will go to rest.
The snows have bleached it this many a year; / The sun has painted it grey; / The vines hold it close in their clinging arms; / The shadows creep there to stay; / And the wind goes calling through empty rooms / For those who have gone away.