On the Road to Nowhere

By Vachel Lindsay

On the road to nowhere

What wild oats did you sow

When you left your father's house

With your cheeks aglow?

Eyes so strained and eager

To see what you might see?

Were you thief or were you fool

Or most nobly free?

Were the tramp-days knightly,

True sowing of wild seed?

Did you dare to make the songs

Vanquished workmen need?

Did you waste much money

To deck a leper's feast?

Love the truth, defy the crowd

Scandalize the priest?

On the road to nowhere

What wild oats did you sow?

Stupids find the nowhere-road

Dusty, grim and slow.

Ere their sowing's ended

They turn them on their track,

Look at the caitiff craven wights

Repentant, hurrying back!

Grown ashamed of nowhere,

Of rags endured for years,

Lust for velvet in their hearts,

Pierced with Mammon's spears,

All but a few fanatics

Give up their darling goal,

Seek to be as others are,

Stultify the soul.

Reapings now confront them,

Glut them, or destroy,

Curious seeds, grain or weeds

Sown with awful joy.

Hurried is their harvest,

They make soft peace with men.

Pilgrims pass. They care not,

Will not tramp again.

O nowhere, golden nowhere!

Sages and fools go on

To your chaotic ocean,

To your tremendous dawn.

Far in your fair dream-haven,

Is nothing or is all...

They press on, singing, sowing

Wild deeds without recall!