Explore "The Ranger" by John Greenleaf Whittier on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
ROBERT RAWLIN! -- Frosts were falling When the ranger's horn was calling Through the woods to Canada.
Gone the winter's sleet and snowing, Gone the spring-time's bud and blowing, Gone the summer's harvest mowing, And again the fields are gray. Yet away, he's away! Faint and fainter hope is growing In the hearts that mourn his stay.