Tramping Song

(Tune—"Captain Ward": English Traditional)

Come out, come out! ye trampers all, and take the open road,
Oh, leave your must and inside dust, throw off your daily load—
Take up, take up, your friendly swag and foot the way with me,
The way that lies beneath the skies and borders on the sea.

The student's road is tough and hard (sing cheerily and loud!)
Until he joins the Tramping Alen (O brethren, be not proud!)
The singing, swinging Tramping Men, who march the miles away,
Who swing their packs upon their backs, and fill the fleeting day.

And praise We now the Tramping Gril, the fairest of the fair—
Her smile is free, frank eyes has she, the wind blows in her hair,
She treads the highway, climbs the heights, no day-long journeys tire
Her tireless limbs; and bright she trims the cheerful evening fire.

Come out, come out ! the high hills call, the country stretches wide,
The world shall be our breathing-space, the rushing wind our guide—
The partner of our way shall be the rippling roadside stream,
And when we sleep the stars shall keep good watch and fill our dream.

Then follow where the white road runs beyond the distant hill,
oh, follow where the rata burns, the tui whistles shrill,
Oh, follow up the wandering clouds that beckon from on high,
The winds that sing immortal songs across the open sky!

J.C.B.