The Race


A hop, a skip, and a gambol,

A run, a tumble, a scramble,

An up-and-a-going,

A laughing-and-crowing,

A weal-and-a-woe-ing,--

Yes, a race for a ball

Or a toy we may call,

This race that is human,--

For child, man, or woman,

Tis one and the same,

A mysterious game

That is played by us all,

And we each get a fall;

And so many it may be

That forever a baby

We feel in the race

For a name and a place.



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