Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WANDERER, by MARGARET SACKVILLE



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE WANDERER, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: You pour for me the bright red wine
Last Line: Farewell—I follow after it.
Subject(s): Wandering & Wanderers


YOU pour for me the bright red wine:
I may not pause for rest with you,
And I must go where the moonshine
Falls on dim meadows, wet with dew.

Oh! sweet is love and pleasant speech,
The warm hearth and the brimming cup—
But the waves sob on the low beach,
The tide's in and the moon is up!

And many's the town I've come unto
When the journey of the day was done;
But ere twilight to morning grew
Or the skies quickened—I was gone.

And many's the winding road I've trod,
And grassy track and endless plain—
But the same way and the same road
I may not travel twice again.

Oh! place your heart within my hand,
I'll carry it all the weary way,
Until we reach that other land
I saw in dreams but yesterday.

But if you give your heart to me,
'Twere better you had cast it out
Into the gnawing mouth of the sea
When the wind whirls the foam about.

And if you give your heart—each year
You'll watch grass grow on the spring's track,
And winter's hobbling steps draw near—
But I shall never more come back.

You'll see day set and the slow mist
About forlorn grey woodlands curled,
Whilst I, whose lips you have not kissed,
Am wandering on the brink of the world.

When the black frosts creep coldly in,
And the loud-laughing earth is dumb—
You'll watch the shivering dawn begin,
You'll call for me; I shall not come.

Oh! never more by hill or down,
Wind-trodden moor or secret place,
Or far forgotten fairy town
Shall you for ever see my face.

Farewell: the sun has risen, blind,
A flickering lamp by weak hands lit.
Heard ye that laughter on the wind?
Farewell—I follow after it.





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