The Wanderer

Beyond the East the sun rise, beyond the West the sea,
And East and West the wander-thirst that will not let me be,
It works in the like madness, dear, to bid me say goodbye,
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 guild 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 night and day
The old ships draw to home again, the young ship sail away
And come I may, but I must and if men ask you why,
You may put the blame on the stars and sun and the white road and the sky.
By Gerald Gould