description: Excerpt from The Trail of the Goldseekers: A Record of Travel in Prose and Verse Anticipation I will wash my brain in the splendid breeze, I will lay my cheek to the northern sun, I will drink the breath of the mossy trees, And the clouds shall meet me one by one.I will fling the scholar's pen aside, And grasp once more the bronco's rein, And I will ride and ride and ride, Till the rain is snow, and the seed is grain. The way is long and cold and lone -But I go.It leads where pines forever moanTheir weight of snow, Yet I go.There are voices in the wind that call, There are hands that beckon to the plain;I must journey where the trees grow tall, And the lonely heron clamors in the rain.
language: English
title: Trail Of The Goldseekers
titlecomplete: Trail Of The Goldseekers
ratings_count: 3
publisher: Reprint Services Corp