Woodchucking

I have chased fugacious woodchucks over many leagues of land, 

But at last they’ve always vanished in a round

 hole in the sand; 

And though I’ve been woodchucking many 

times–upon my soul–

I have never bagged my woodchuck, for he 

always found his hole. 

l have chased my hot ambitious through the

meadow while with flowers,

Chased them through the clover blossoms, 

chased them through the orchard 

bowers;

Chased them through the old scrub pastures

till, with weariness of soul

f at last have seen them vanish like a 

woodchuck In his hole. 

But there's fun In chasing woodchucks, and 

I’ll chase the vision still, 

ft it leads me through the dark pine woods 

and up the stony hill.

There's a glorious expectation that still 

lingers In my soul, 

That some day i’ll catch that woodchuck ere

he slides into his hole. 

~ Anonymous