I ride on the mountain tops, I ride;
I have found my life and am satisfied.
I ride on the hills, I forgive, I forget
Life’s hoard of regret-
All the terror and pain
Of the chafing chain.
Grind on, O cities, grind;
I leave you a blur behind.
I am lifted elate-the skies expand;
Here the world’s heaped gold is a pile of sand.
Let them weary and work in their narrow walls;
I ride with the voices of waterfalls!
I swing on as one in a dream; I swing
Down the airy hollows, I shout, I sing!
The world is gone like an empty word;
My body’s a bough in the wind, my heart a bird.
(Edwin Markham)
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Based on Topics: World Poems, Dreams Poems, Gold Poems, Birds Poems, Cities Poems, Pleasure Poems, Forgiveness PoemsBased on Keywords: chafing