From the Fireside to the Open Road
We watched the first red blaze appear, Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam On whitewashed wall and sagging beam, Until the old, rude-furnished room Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom; —from Snow-Bound, John Greenleaf Whittier Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading […]
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