To An Old Camper
 by Mary S. Edgar

You may think, my dear, when you grow quite old

You have left camp days behind,

But I know the scent of wood smoke

Will always call to mind

Little fires at twilight

And trails you used to find.

You may think someday you have quite grown up,

And feel so worldly wise

But suddenly from out of the past

A vision will arise

Of merry folk with brown bare knees

And laughter in their eyes. 

You may live in a house built to your taste

In the nicest part of town

But someday for your old camp togs

You'd change your latest gown

And trade it for a balsam bed

Where stars all night look down.

You may find yourself grow wealthy

Have all that gold can buy.

But you'd toss aside a fortune

For days 'neath an open sky

With sunlight and blue water

And white clouds sailing by.

For once you have been a camper

Then something has come to stay

Deep in your heart forever

Which nothing can take away,

And heaven can only be heaven

With a camp in which to play.