I’ve heard tell of wander-lust And men and boys beside Who sought out nature’s gold-dust And left their fireside With youthful lustre in their eyes— No thought for hearts their passions crushed— Their lips and arms gave feigned goodbyes They did not feel, nor cared they rushed. I’ve heard tell of wander-lust And women and girls beside Who dab on fashion’s eye-dust And flee their husband’s side With not a care of home’s demise— Or thought for how he feels the thrust— She shuns her role and her children’s cries To find her fame in the world’s eyes. I’ve heard tell of wander-lust And children and youths beside Who grew up never life-rushed And loved the ocean tide Of life’s sweet calm, no compromise That steered to things that rust; Moth-eaten dreams their eyes never cried— For a child's heart has a child's trust. And I’ve heard tell of wander-lust And a handful I’ve known beside Who hate this world’s gold-dust And choose a road not wide; They maybe have no envious eyes Of man or name fixed on their private ways, But God’s hand gives them restful days That hold the peace of the Only-Wise.
COPYRIGHT 2021 BROOKLYN K. BIEGEL