Classic Poem

My sandalled feet are firm and fleet,
My chariot wheels are splendid;
I rush and run before the sun
With balmy breezes blended;
O'er forest dry, past mountains high,
O'er snowy valleys hollow,
I sweep along with muffled song
And robin red-breasts follow.

Before my blade the snow wreaths fade,
The frosty blast I cripple;
The frozen stream wakes from its dream,
And straight begins to ripple;
I hush the wail along my trail
Past hamlet, home and hollow,
While on I go with noiseless flow
And robin red-breasts follow.

And like a psalm, benign and calm,
I blight the brow of winter;
I snap the chains that hold the reins—
The fields of ice I splinter;
And like the tide I run and ride,
The bated winds I swallow;
Triumphant still past rock and rill,
And robin red-breasts follow.

A wing of light from night to night
My perfumed chariot passes,
And I can hear in meadows clear
The whispering of the grasses;
With joyous face I onward race
Past hopeless height and hollow,
While swift and strong with simple song
My robin red-breasts follow.

The north wind bleeds—the rustling reeds
The happy news is telling,
And I can hear in forests near
The juicy leaf-buds swelling;
I onward rush without the thrush,
The red bird or the swallow,
You needn't mind, for close behind
My robin red-breasts follow.