Classic Poem

When worn and tired with toil and care,
I homeward wheel my way,
A thought dispels my dark despair
And lights the homeward way;
A vision fair far up the street
With straining eyes I see—
I hurry then my love to meet—
I know she waits for me.

She waits for me, my love, my own,
She greets me with a smile,
I hear again her tender tone,
It shortens every mile
She waits for me, because, you see,
Like lightning she can go—
At every turn she waits for me—
I ride so awful slow!