Classic Poem

God gave unto the Philistine,
Who toils at desk and mart,
The silver pieces broad and fine
And broidered coat and smart,
But gave, O brothers, for our part
The roving foot and free;
The children of the merry heart —
Life's vagabonds are we.

The elder son hath glowing hearth
And quiet home and house;
The younger son hath all the earth
Wherein he may carouse.
The elder son his goodly spouse
For once and all has ta'en;
Upon the younger's tattered blouse
More heads than one have lain.

Then ho, for stirrup and for spur,
Across the world — away!
Nor pause to snatch a kiss from her
We courted yesterday.
'Tis some must dance and some must play,
Some pay and some go free.
God keep you, sirs, who stare and stay —
Life's vagabonds are we.