Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass,
And her ropes are taut with the dew,
For we're booming down on the old trail, our own trail, the out trail.
We're sagging south on the Long Trail, the trail that is always new.

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Rudyard Kipling (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.