In the airy whirling wheel is the springing strength of steel,
And the sinews grow to steel, day by day,
Till you feel your pulses leap at the easy swing and sweep
As the hedges flicker past upon the way.
Then it’s out to the kiss of the morning breeze,
And the rose of the morning sky,
And the long brown road, where the tired spirit’s load
Slips off as the leagues go by!
Black-and-silver, swift and strong, with a pleasant undersong
From the steady rippling murmur of the chain—
Half a thing of life and will, you may feel it start and thrill
With a quick elastic answer to the strain,
As you ride to the kiss of the morning breeze,
And the rose of the morning sky,
And the long brown road, where the tired spirit’s load
Slips off as the leagues go by!
Miles a hundred you may run from the rising of the sun
To the gleam of the first white star;
You may ride through twenty towns, meet the sun upon the downs
And the wind on the mountain scaur.
Then it’s out to the kiss of the morning breeze
And the rose of the morning sky,
And the long brown road, where the tired spirit’s load
Slips off as the leagues go by!
Down the fragrant country-side, through the woodland’s summer pride
You have come in your forenoon spin;
And you never would have guessed how delicious is the rest
In the shade by the wayside inn,
When you’ve sought the kiss of the morning breeze
And the rose of the morning sky,
And the long brown road, where the tired spirit’s load
Slips off as the leagues go by!
Oh, there’s many a one who teaches that the shining river-reaches
Are the place to spend a long June day;
But give me the whirling wheel and a boat of air and steel
To float upon the King’s highway!
Oh, give me the kiss of the morning breeze
And the rose of the morning sky,
And the long brown road, where the tired spirit’s load
Slips off as the leagues go by!