Not that I always struck the proper mean Of what mankind must give for what they gain, But, when I think of those whom dull routine And the pursuit of cheerless toil enchain, Who from their desk-chairs seeing a summer cloud Race through blue heaven on its joyful course Sigh sometimes for a life less cramped and bowed, I think I might have done a great deal worse; For I have ever gone untied and free, The stars and my high thoughts for company; Wet with the salt-spray and the mountain showers, I have had the sense of space and amplitude, And love in many places, silver-shoed, Has come and scattered all my path with flowers. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG FOR THE LUDDITES by GEORGE GORDON BYRON LET THE LIGHT ENTER (THE DYING WORDS OF GOETHE) by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER THE BELLS OF SAN BLAS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: LUCINDA MATLOCK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |