< St. Nicholas < Volume 40 < Number 9
ROADS
Many, many roads there are, warm and dusty brown,
Some go running to the hills, some turn into town;
Some lead far and far away,—where nobody knows;
How I ’d like to follow them, finding where each goes!
Some go running to the hills, some turn into town;
Some lead far and far away,—where nobody knows;
How I ’d like to follow them, finding where each goes!
Once I found a pretty road, leading up a hill,
It ran beside a daisy field, and on it wandered still;
And down it went across a bridge, all tumbled and forlorn,
Then straight behind a farmer's barn, where ducks were eating corn!
It ran beside a daisy field, and on it wandered still;
And down it went across a bridge, all tumbled and forlorn,
Then straight behind a farmer's barn, where ducks were eating corn!
Many, many roads there are, warm and dusty brown,
Some go running to the hills, some turn into town;
Each and every one of them, I choose it as my friend,
For sure surprise is waiting me, if I could find the end!
Miriam Clark Potter.
Some go running to the hills, some turn into town;
Each and every one of them, I choose it as my friend,
For sure surprise is waiting me, if I could find the end!
Miriam Clark Potter.
THE DAISY FIELD, PAINTED BY CHARLES C. CURRAN.
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