A Stroll

 Oh, how grand is a stroll

 Over hill, over knoll,

 Where the ceiling o’erhead is the sky.

 To skip along gleely,

 Unhindered, to freely

 Ascend where the eagles can’t fly.

 The inward enlightened,

 All fears have been frightened

 And chased by the light of the sun.

 The air’s circulation

 Begets contemplation

 And causes the spirit to run.

 ‘Tis mental digestion

 That lightens depression

 And clears all the storm clouds away.

 Very grand is a stroll

 Over hill, over knoll,

 Like the light of the brightness of day.