THE highways and the byways, the kind sky folding all, And never a care to drag me back and never a voice to call; Only the call of the long, white road to the far horizon's wall. The glad seas and the mad seas, the seas on a night in June, And never a hand to beckon back from the path of the new-lit moon; Never a night that lasts too long or a dawn that breaks too soon! The shrill breeze and the hill breeze, the sea breeze, fierce and bold, And never a breeze that gives the lie to a tale that a breeze has told; Always the tale of the strange and new in the countries strange and old. The lone trail and the known trail, the trail you must take on trust, And never a trail without a grave where a wanderer's bones are thrust— Never a look or a turning back till the dust shall claim the dust! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE SUMMER by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO A MOTH SEEN IN WINTER by ROBERT FROST FOR OUR BETTER GRACES by JAMES GALVIN GOAL by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SORROW SINGERS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE GUARDIAN OF THE RED DISK (SPOKEN BY A CITIZEN OF MALTA - 1300) by EMMA LAZARUS |