WANDER-THIRST.
BEYOND the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea, And East and West the wander-thirst that will not let me be; It works in me like madness, dear, to bid me say good-bye ; For the seas call and the stars call, and oh ! the call of the
sky !
I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are,
But a man can have the Sun for friend, and for his guide a star;
And there's no end of voyaging when once the voice is heard, For the river calls and the road calls, and oh ! the call of a bird !
Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and day The old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away; And come I may, but go I must, and if men ask you why, You may put the blame on the stars and the Sun and the white road and the sky !
GERALD GOULD.
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