Classic Poem

He tumbled from his weary wheel,
And set it by the door;
Then stood as though he joyed to feel
His feet on earth once more;
And as he mopped his rumpled head
His face was wreathed in smiles;
" A very pretty run, " he said,
" I did a hundred miles! "

" A hundred miles! " I cried " Ah, think!
What beauties you have seen!
The reedy streams where cattle drink,
The meadows rich and green.
Where did you wend your rapid way —
Through lofty woodland aisles? "
He shook his head. " I cannot say —
I did a hundred miles! "

" What hamlets saw your swift tires spin?
Ah, how I envy you!
To lose the city's dust and din
Beneath the heaven's blue;
To get a breath of country air,
To lean o'er rustic sites! "
He only said: " The roads were fair —
I did a hundred miles! "