When dogs play in the sun outdoors,
  And cats chase sunbeams on the mat;
When merry maidens laugh for joy,
  And young men cock their ears at that;
And babes can see in panes of glass
A better light than fire-grate has;

When to my teeth ale is not cold,
  And sweeter than hot toast is bread;
When I, no longer charmed by books,
  Seek human faces in their stead;
And every stranger that I meet
Will seem a friend whom I must greet;

When I no sooner up at morn,
  Must like a turkey bolt my food,
To tramp the white green-bordered roads,
  And hear birds sing in many a wood:
When such a time of year has come,
The whole wide world can be my home.