I sought the trails of South and North,
I wandered East and West;
But pride and passion drove me forth
And would not let me rest.
And still I seek, as still I roam,
A snug roof overhead;
Four walls, my own; a quiet home. . . .
"You'll have it -- when you're dead."

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 910 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Robert William Service
Poem: The Wistful One
Volume: Ballads of a Bohemian (Book 3)
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