I ' M out again in the great spaces,
Far from men and the little places,
I'm out again where the heart faces
The lone plains and the skies.
I'm out with the wind no hand can saddle;
Out and away from wants that raddle;
Out where the striding sun can straddle
The world.
And, oh, I'm full of scornful pities
For dwellers in streets and narrow cities;
For the trade-songs, and trade-ditties,
They chant.
And I wish I could smite out of creation
The lie they call their civilisation,—
A lie that is but soul-dissipation,
Soul-deceit and cant.

I'm out again in the great spaces,
Far from men and the little places,
I'm out again where the heart faces
The lone night and the stars.
And I wish I knew how to untether
All pent lives to the wide world-weather,
And say, ‘Come, come, let us ride together
Away.’
For one hour's sense of the infinite prairie
Is better than all the years men bury
In crowded walls, sad, mad or merry
Or vain.
And one star's light has more of Heaven,
Has more in it of the great God-leaven,
Than the seventy myriad lights and seven,
Cities beget, for gain.