Main Street, and Other Poems

<h2> Roofs </h2> <h3> (For Amelia Josephine Burr) </h3> <p>The road is wide and the stars are out<br/> and the breath of the night is sweet,<br/> And this is the time when wanderlust should seize upon my feet.<br/> But I'm glad to turn from the open road and the starlight on my face,<br/> And to leave the splendour of out-of-doors for a human dwelling place.<br/> <br/> I never have seen a vagabond who really liked to roam<br/> All up and down the streets of the world and not to have a home:<br/> The tramp who slept in your barn last night and left at break of day<br/> Will wander only until he finds another place to stay.<br/> <br/> A gypsy-man will sleep in his cart with canvas overhead;<br/> Or else he'll go into his tent when it is time for bed.<br/> He'll sit on the grass and take his ease so long as the sun is high,<br/> But when it is dark he wants a roof to keep away the sky.<br/> <br/> If you call a gypsy a vagabond, I think you do him wrong,<br/> For he never goes a-travelling but he takes his home along.<br/> And the only reason a road is good, as every wanderer knows,<br/> Is just because of the homes, the homes, the homes to which it goes.<br/> <br/> They say that life is a highway and its milestones are the years,<br/> And now and then there's a toll-gate where you buy your way with tears.<br/> It's a rough road and a steep road and it stretches broad and far,<br/> But at last it leads to a golden Town where golden Houses are.<br/></p> <p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"></SPAN></p> <br/> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />