The New North

THE MENDICANTS REACH WINNIPEG We are as mendicants who wait Along the roadside in the sun. Tatters of yesterday and shreds Of morrow clothe us every one. And some are dotards, who believe And glory in the days of old; While some are dreamers, harping still Upon an unknown age of gold. O foolish ones, put by your care! Where wants are many, joys are few; And at the wilding springs of peace, God keeps an open house for you. But there be others, happier few, The vagabondish sons of God, Who know the by-ways and the flowers, And care not how the world may plod."