To a Pair of Tramping Boots

Once you were smooth and brown as a berry
Heigh ho! for the days that are done!
Now you are gray and wrinkled—very
Heigh ho! for the sands that have run!
Once your fall on the roads rang merrily,
Heigh ho! for the days gone by!
Then you were proof by ford or ferry,
Heigh ho! and a wintry sky!
Now you leak and have gone contrary,
Heigh ho! and your clinkers shed!
Yet you bring back more than the sweet rosemary,
Heigh ho! of the days that fled!
I'll oil you now at the end of all,
Heigh ho! for the days that sped!
And hang you high on a nail in the wall
Heigh ho! over my bed!
You'll bring back there a rata tall,
Heigh ho! for the days that are gone!
The slithering crash of a waterfall
Heigh ho! though the days pass on!
And a cliff with a water-race below,
Heigh ho! for the thrill of the climb!
And your uppers deep in the highland snow
Heigh ho! in the lowland grime!
You'll bring back too the friends I knew,
Though parting ways their feet have led;
And be they all who gibe at you
Damned, heigh ho! till they are dead!

—R.F.F.