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.

Monadnock Valley Press > Millay