The Return from Town
by Edna St. Vincent Millay

As I sat down by Saddle Stream
To bathe my dusty feet there,
A boy was standing on the bridge
Any girl would meet there.

As I went over Woody Knob
And dipped into the Hollow,
A youth was coming up the hill
Any maid would follow.

Then in I turned at my own gate, –
And nothing to be sad for –
To such a man as any wife
Would pass a pretty lad for.