The Daring One
Edwin Markham
I would my soul were like the bird  Â
That dares the vastness undeterred.  Â
Look, where the bluebird on the bough  Â
Breaks into rapture even now!  Â
He sings, tip-top, the tossing elm  Â
As tho he would a world o’erwhelm.  Â
Indifferent to the void he rides  Â
Upon the wind’s eternal tides.
He tosses gladly on the gale,
For well he knows he can not fail—
Knows if the bough breaks, still his wings  Â
Will bear him upward while he sings!
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