Alabama, 1913. 41) 



THE OPEN ROAD. 



OTHE winding road shall take me 

 Out into the fields- unhampered, 

 And the glorious day shall make me 

 Free of heart and free of mind. 

 There shall be no sun-ways pampered 

 By the mock illusion born us, 

 And the song of birds shall ease me 

 When upon the sod reclined. 

 I shall hear the breezes whisper 

 Tender notes among the flowers, 

 Feel the soft requiem of vesper 

 Fall upon the twilight hills. 

 I shall wander to the sunset, 

 Where the gold is hoarded lavish, 

 Far into the land of dreaming 

 On the quiet shores of peace. 

 There no more to bend in slavish 

 Toil throughout the weary hour, 

 Only that which is and seeming 

 Stirring with the stately trees. 

 Then for me the brooks will murmur 

 And the night will find me quiet, 

 Where the stars look down upon me 

 In between the boughs of fir, 

 And the evening hour from riot 

 Of pure gold make labor free. 



— Robert Page Lincoln. 



4 BB 



