Thursday, May 31, 2012

The Wanderer

Where hast thou been?
Tell me,
What far roads have thy swift feet trod?
To hot southern cities my feet took me;
I've followed the River that flows to the Sea,
Over meadows, and over sand;
O'er grassland wide where grows no tree.
I've walked through forests silently,
And at night the stars did see
In a lonely northern land.

What hast thou seen?
Tell me,
What strange sights in countries far?
I've seen fishing boats by the shore;
I've seen the white gulls swoop and soar,
Like foam on the face of the deep;
High fluted tower and golden door,
In mighty cities where men walk no more
And silence lies thick as dust on the floor.
Memories they keep.

What hast thou heard?
Tell me,
What songs and tales from far away?
Oh, many a tale the fancy to feast
Of talking bird and of wing├ęd beast,
And creatures more wild and odd.
And one tale, stranger than all to me,
And yet men died for it, willingly:
They spoke of a god who died on a tree,
And a man who rose as God.

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