His Majesty

I ’m king of the road! I gather My toll on the world’s highways. They pave the street for my royal feet, And the man in the wagon pays. With my sturdy heels I laugh at wheels; I hurry at no man’s will, For the rich who ride my meat provide; They must feed the king to his fill. I ’m kin of the road! Before me My way lies over the land, With a wild rose train from meadow and lane And the hail of a song-bird band. They ar slaves who team by wagon or steam: The footman carries to crown. What cares the tramp whose supper and camp Are waiting in every town? I ’m king of the road all summer; In winter I still go free. Let the snow-blast come, in a nook I ’ll chum With a gipsy crew like me. I ’ll ask no shares with home-proud heirs; They ’re the scorn of my soul while I Can tread the floors of the great Out-doors, And nobody ask me why.