Little-worn roads used to meander Like the ancient streams through low valleys. They were accustomed to climbing the hill-slopes, And they seemed to drop into nothingness. We rode the white horse of adventure When accepting their whimsical challenge. Fragrance belonged to the untrampled fields That bordered their deep-rutted edges. Sunshine ran in the unending bird-highways And played peep-eye through the leaf-meshes. Where have the old roads gone to? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE AMERICAN FLAG by JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 74 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE DEAD LARK by ALEXANDER ANDERSON ON A YOUNG POETESS'S GRAVE by ROBERT WILLIAMS BUCHANAN MAZEPPA by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. IN THE DEEP CAVE OF THE HEART by EDWARD CARPENTER |