Explore "The Vagabond" by Theodosia Pickrering Garrison on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The little dream she had forgot / Oh, long and long ago, / Came back across the April fields / And touched her garment so / (As might a wind-blown primrose cling / And one scarce guess or know.)
A little beggared outcast dream / Forgot of Love and men, / And all because a fiddler played / An old song in the glen, / And two Young Lovers hand in hand, / Sent back its tune again.
The little dream she had forgot / Crept near and clung and stayed -- / A roving, ragged vagabond / Half daring, half afraid, / And all because young love went by / And one old fiddler played.