Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A CAPE COD WOOD ROAD, by AMOS RUSSEL WELLS

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A CAPE COD WOOD ROAD, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: The silent woodlands bend above
Last Line: The real is here, it is not there!
Subject(s): American Revolution; Cape Cod; Roads; Paths; Trails

The silent woodlands bend above
This ancient highway that they love,
And seem to guard it jealous-wise
From alien, unfriendly eyes.
Along this road in centuries past
The stage for Boston rattled fast,
With Pilgrim folk outside and in,
Austere with serious discipline.
Here strode the friendly Indian band,
The hunter with his gun in hand,
The soldier hastening to join
The patriot troops against Burgoyne,
And hither from the north came down
The Puritan with solemn frown.

Deep-worn by all these years of toil
The road has sunk into the soil,
While moss and tangled briers hide
The sharp-cut bank on either side.
For now the ancient road is left
Of all its olden fame bereft.
Only a squirrel now and then
Attempts this path of antique men,
And flickering silent shadows hide
The ways where ghosts may often glide.

From busy highroad strangely near
The automobile horns we hear,
And all the rushing modern world
Along that level stretch is hurled;
But someway here within the wood
It seems unutterably good;
And, bathed in memories true and fair,
The real is here, it is not there!

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