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Song of the Road

From the Rock Island Argus, October 1, 1912.
By Duncan M. Smith.

 I love the open road that down
   The river winds away
 And reaches on from town to town
   Through fields with flowers gay,
 That offers here and there a nook
   Beneath a shady tree
 Where proper folk ne’er think to look
   Nor prying eye may see.
 I love the high and open sky;
   I love it when it’s gray.
 I love the swallows as they fly,
   The fishes when they play.
 I love the crashing thunderstorm
   When ‘neath a stack content,
 All snuggled up, serene and warm,
   I watch it till it’s spent.
 I love the wind that comes and goes
   With soft and slumb’rous sigh
 And flutters hollyhock and rose
   Whene’er it passes by.
 It kisses tramp and money king
   Alike in open day.
 The praises of the road I sing
   And tramp upon my way.

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