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Title: Anticipation
Author: Hamlin Garland [ More Titles by Garland]
I will wash my brain in the splendid breeze, I will lay my cheek to the northern sun, I will drink the breath of the mossy trees, And the clouds shall meet me one by one. I will fling the scholar's pen aside, And grasp once more the bronco's rein, And I will ride and ride and ride, Till the rain is snow, and the seed is grain. The way is long and cold and lone-- But I go. It leads where pines forever moan Their weight of snow, Yet I go. There are voices in the wind that call, There are hands that beckon to the plain; I must journey where the trees grow tall, And the lonely heron clamors in the rain.
[The end] Hamlin Garland's poem: Anticipation ________________________________________________
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