A "Feel Good" Place

I was very pleased yesterday when a friend told me that visiting my blog made him feel good. Nothing could possible be more to my liking nor give me more satisfaction than providing a place where both friends and passing strangers can have a moment of comfortable ‘feeling good.’

Reflecting on that truth, I am reminded of one of my most treasured poems. It was written by Sam Walter Foss (1858-1911) and is titled The House by the Side of the Road. I share it with you in the hope that it gives you, in the midst of whatever Monday madness you are dealing with, a moment of feeling good. And I thank you for your visit.

The House by the Side of the Road

“He was a friend to man, and he lived in a house by the side of the road.”
Homer

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In their place of self-content;
There are souls like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
Where highways never ran-
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by-
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner’s seat,
Or hurl the cynic’s ban-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.



I see from my house by the side of the road,
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears,
Both parts of an infinite plan-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead
And mountains of wearisome height;
That the road passes on through the long afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
But still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice,
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone.

Let me live in my house by the side of the road-
It’s here the race of men go by.
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
Wise, foolish - so am I;
Then why should I sit in the scorner’s seat,
Or hurl the cynic’s ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.