Robert W. Service

Wheels

Since I am sick of Wheels
That jar my day,
Unto the hush that heals
I steal away.
Unto the core of Peace
Nature reveals,
I go to win release
From Wheels.
 
Let me beneath the moon
Take desert trail;
Or on some lost lagoon
Serenely sail;
Win to some peak the grey
Storm cloud conceals . . .
Life, let me get away
From Wheels!
 
Why was I born so late?
A skin—clad man
I should have shared the fate
Of mountain clan;
My quiet flock beside,
When silence steals,
Unshocked in eventide
By Wheels.
 
The Wheel is King today,
And speed’s a god;
Yet when I see the way
My feet have trod,
Like pilgrims who to shrine
Of Beauty kneels,
I pray: O Peace divine
Damn Wheels!

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