The Road That Has No End

by Joseph Burrows (1953-2009)

Hast ever tramped along the road    That has no end?    The far brown winding road, your one    Fast friend    A tattered weather-beaten swag,    A silent mate    To send    His dumb warm comfort to the heart,    A fount where dreams ascend.    There’s wondrous freedom on the road    That has no end;    A man’s heart glows, his spirit leaps    To blend    Its joy of life with fierce wind’s gust    Upon his face:    To lend    Its cry to Nature’s tumult, full    And shrill, as twilight shades descend.    The flowers bloom along the road    That has no end    Cool breezes blow, the gum trees sway    And bend;    The wild doves woo, and softly coo    Their soothing notes,    And mend    Heart’s throbbing pain to sweet content,    And peace lights on the mind’s sad trend    There’s pain and toil along the road    That has no end;    A sinking heart, and weary feet    That spend    Their strength, and lag and crave respite;    And dim tired eyes    That tend    To close their heavy lids upon    The stinging dusts that upward wend.    There are sweet still hours along the road    That has no end    ‘Neath twinkling stars when night’s deep shades    O’erpend;    A man’s eyes shine with gathered tears,    And memories come    To rend    His straining heart strings, while above    The paling lights his mood commend.    I love the road, the swagman’s road    That has no end;    I love its joys, that pains and toils    Transcend;    It is my dreams, the life that fills my heart    And when death comes and would    My peacefulness    Amend,    I pray that God may let my soul depart    With my tattered swag beside me,    ‘Mid my friends that never chide me,    And my face towards the distant clouded hill,    Where leads the far brown winding road    That has no end.