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.