The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is not wanted,
The cheerful voice of the public road—the gay fresh sentiment of the road.
O highway I travel! O public road! Do you say to me, Do not leave me?
Do you say, Venture not?—If you leave me you are lost?
Do you say, I am already prepared—I am well beaten and undenied—adhere to me?
O public road! I say back I am not afraid to leave you—yet I love you,
You express me better than I can express myself,
You shall be more to me than my poem.
I think heroic deeds were all conceived in the open air,
I think I could stop here myself and do miracles,