We were visited last evening By a servant of the day He had travelled miles on horseback To scout his master's way And he only had a moment To warm his frozen hands And though he needed food and rest He told us of his land And all too soon He had to leave Else sleep might block his way And so he thanked us both, and saddled up And softly rode away And I thought I caught a glimpse of sun in his eye And wheatfield in his smile And I couldn't help but a-thinking They would follow in a while
