The Road Builder

I DO not care for garments fine, I do not care for medals bright; I have no wish to quench with wine My thirst when I go home at night. I'm satisfied with work to do, And I'm content to bear my load If only I can carve and hew For those I love a better road. I have no wish for luxury If I must live it all alone; Nor do I toil that I may be By many strangers better known. If I were here to toil for self I'd have a very simple code, And I'd need very little pelf— But I'm the builder of a road. I'm on this earth to pioneer For those who follow after me, According to my service here Their chance for splendid life will be. Into the future I must tread Nor whimper at the present goad; 'Tis mine to blaze the path ahead, I am the builder of a road. I dare not shirk what task I find, I dare not falsely step aside, Nor leave the tangled brush behind. My pathway must be clear and wide. For they will tread the way I go, They'll come to reap the seed I sowed When I am sleeping 'neath the snow, I am the builder of a road. It is for them I face the front And strive to keep my pathway straight, It is for them I bear the brunt Of selfishness and bitter hate. That they may know a smoother way, That they may bear a lighter load, I, smiling, face the heat of day— I am the builder of a road.