The house by the side of the road

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn in the peace of their self-content;

There are souls, like stars, that dwell apart, in a fellowless firmament;

There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths where people never call;

But let me live by the side of the road and be a Friend to all.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road, where the human race goes by

Those who are good and those who are bad, as good and as bad as I.

I would not sit in the scorner’s seat, or hurl the cynic’s bawl.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road and be a Friend to all.

I see from my house by the side of the road, by the side of the highway of life,

Those who press with the ardor of hope, those who are faint with strife.

But I turn not away from their smiles or their tears—both part of a plan for us all;

Let me live in my house by the side of the road and be a Friend to all

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead and mountains of wearisome height;

That the road passes on through the long afternoon and stretches away to the night.

But still, I rejoice when the travelers rejoice and weep with the strangers that moan,

Nor live in my house by the side of the road like one who dwells alone.

Let me live in my house by the side of the road where the human race goes by—

They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong, wise, foolish—so am I.

Then why should I sit in the scorner’s seat or hurl the cynic’s bawl?

Let me live in my house by the side of the road and be a Friend to all.

Modified from

Sam Walter Foss’

Dreams in Homespun (1897).