I was a harness horse, Constrained to travel weak or strong, With orders from oppressing force, Push along, push along. I had no space of rest, And took at forks the roughest prong, Still by the cruel driver pressed, Push along, push along. Vain strove the idle bird, To charm me with her artless song, But pleasure lingered from the word, Push along, push along. The order of the day Was push, the peal of every tongue, The only word was all the way, Push along, push along. Thus to my journey's end, Had I to travel right or wrong, 'Till death my sweet and favored friend, Bade me from life to push along. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE PHILLIS INAMOROTA by LANCELOT ANDREWES ON SEEING AN OFFICER'S WIDOW DISTRACTED - ARREARS OF PENSION by MARY BARBER TO THE BELGIANS by LAURENCE BINYON OLIVER'S ADVICE by WILLIAM BLACKER TO ONE WHO HAD LEFT HER CONVENT TO MARRY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT IN THE GARDEN (WITH APOLOGIES TO ALFRED NOYES) by MARJORIE W. BRACHLOW A BUFFALO DANCE AT SANTO DOMINGO by WITTER BYNNER WRITTEN IN VISTORS' BOOK AT THE BIRTHPLACE OF ROBERT BURNS by GEORGE WASHINGTON CABLE |