1 I walk the unfrequented road
with open eye and ear;
I watch afield the farmer load
the bounty of the year.

2 I filch the fruit of no one’s toil —
no trespasser am I —
and yet I reap from every soil
and from the boundless sky.

3 I gather where I did not sow,
and bend the mystic sheaf,
the amber air, the river’s flow,
the rustle of the leaf.

4 A beauty springtime never knew
haunts all the quiet ways,
and sweeter shines the landscape through
its veil of autumn haze.

5 I face the hills, the streams, the wood,
and feel with all akin;
my heart expands; their fortitude
and peace and joy flow in.