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Robert Laurence Binyon - The Lure
Work rating: Low

The long road lures across the hill,
 Divides the brown fields and the green,
 And curves, and dips, and climbing still
 Gleams over into lands unseen.

 I think what valleys far more fair
 Than ours, the road runs on to meet.
 The light falls wild and happy there.
 What shadowy doubt delays my feet?

 Oh, one day, one day, I shall go
 Whither the road runs out of sight,
 And find, whatever winds may blow,
 An inn at falling of the night.
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