Little-worn roads used to meander Like the ancient streams through low valleys. They were accustomed to climbing the hill-slopes, And they seemed to drop into nothingness. We rode the white horse of adventure When accepting their whimsical challenge. Fragrance belonged to the untrampled fields That bordered their deep-rutted edges. Sunshine ran in the unending bird-highways And played peep-eye through the leaf-meshes. Where have the old roads gone to? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CELIA'S HOMECOMING by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON LOST BUT FOUND by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR ON THE SINKING OF THE VICTORIA by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 30 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING NOR CARE TOO MUCH by MARY E. BUFFINTON A CONTRAST, BETWEEN TWO EMINENT DIVINES by JOHN BYROM A VERMONT PASTURE by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |