'The House By The Side Of The Road'

A few months ago I came across a Gabrielle Carteris interview where she told a very heart-warming story with regards to this poem and the special bond it created between she and her grandfather, whom she unfortunately lost at a very young age. He had taught it to her when she was just a little girl, as it was his favorite, so she therefore, knew the poem by heart and could recite it the way a child would his or her ABC's. That's pretty remarkable given its length. Decades later and on a day when she needed to be comforted the most, her seven year old daughter whom she'd never read the poem to, laid down beside her and recited the entire poem into her ear. Upon asking her where she had learned it, her daughter replied: "I just know it Mommy". It gets me every time...

The House by the Side of the Road

THERE are hermit souls that live withdrawn

In the place of their self-content;

There are souls like stars, that dwell apart,

In a fellowless firmament;

There are pioneer souls that blaze the paths

Where highways never ran-

But let me live by the side of the road

And be a friend to man.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road

Where the race of men go by-

The men who are good and the men who are bad,

As good and as bad as I.

I would not sit in the scorner's seat

Nor hurl the cynic's ban-

Let me live in a house by the side of the road

And be a friend to man.

I see from my house by the side of the road

By the side of the highway of life,

The men who press with the ardor of hope,

The men who are faint with the strife,

But I turn not away from their smiles and tears,

Both parts of an infinite plan-

Let me live in a house by the side of the road

And be a friend to man.

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead,

And mountains of wearisome height;

That the road passes on through the long afternoon

And stretches away to the night.

And still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice

And weep with the strangers that moan,

Nor live in my house by the side of the road

Like a man who dwells alone.

Let me live in my house by the side of the road,

Where the race of men go by-

They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,

Wise, foolish - so am I.

Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat,

Or hurl the cynic's ban?

Let me live in my house by the side of the road

And be a friend to man.

 ~Sam Walter Foss~