DAYS OFF
AND OTHER DIGRESSIONS

BY
HENRY VAN DYKE

I do not count the hours I spend
In wandering by the sea;
The forest is my loyal friend,
Like God it useth me:

Or on the mountain-crest sublime,
Or down the oaken glade,
O what have I to do with Time?
For this the day was made.

ILLUSTRATED


NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
MDCCCCVII

To

MY FRIEND AND NEIGHBOUR
GROVER CLEVELAND
WHOSE YEARS OF GREAT WORK
AS A STATESMAN
HAVE BEEN CHEERED BY DAYS OF GOOD PLAY
AS A FISHERMAN