Explore "Stout Marches Lead to Certain Ends" by Robert Louis Stevenson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
STOUT marches lead to certain ends, / We seek no Holy Grail, my friends- / That dawn should find us every day / Some fraction farther on our way.
The dumb lands sleep from east to west, / They stretch and turn and take their rest.
The cock has crown in the steading-yard, / But priest and people slumber hard.
We two are early forth, and hear / The nations snoring far and near.
So peacefully their rest they take, / It seems we are the first awake!
-Strong heart! this is no royal way, / A thousand cross-roads seek the day; / And, hid from us, to left and right, / A thousand seekers seek the light.