Scout Finch

There is a charm in footing slow across a silent plain, Where patriot battle has been fought, where glory had the gain; There is a pleasure on the heath where Druids old have been, Where mantles grey have rustled by and swept the nettles green;

There is a joy in every spot made known by times of old, New to the feet, although each tale a hundred times be told; There is a deeper joy than all, more solemn in the heart, More parching to the tongue than all, of more divine a smart,