Classic Poem

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 king 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 are slaves who team by wagon or steam:
The footman carries the 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.