ALL day and many days I rode, My horse’s head set toward the sea; And as I rode a longing came to me That I might keep the sunset road, Riding my horse right on and on, O’ertake the day still lagging at the west, And so reach boyhood from the dawn, And be with all the days at rest. For then the odor of the growing wheat, The flare of sumach on the hills, The touch of grasses to my feet Would cure my brain of all its ills,— Would fill my heart so full of joy That no stern lines could fret my face. There would I be forever boy, Lit by the sky’s unfailing grace.
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