HE sat beside me by the fire, and chattered while I greased my lyre. "I've toiled," he said, "for thirty years, like Adam's team of brindled steers. And now that I have made my wad, I'll do some traveling abroad. I want to see this good old globe before I don a long white robe. My wife and I for years have planned a journey to the Holy Land; next year we'll see the storied things of which the pious psalmist sings. And if the war shall ever cease, we'll jog through Italy and Greece, and see the Spaniard train his vine, and have a joy ride on the Rhine. I hope to climb the Alps and see the moonlight on the Zuyder Zee, and tread the ancient streets of Rome—but now, methinks, I must go home." He took his rainstick and his hat and vanished from my humble flat, to seek his home, which wasn't far; and on his way a motor car came up behind and climbed his frame, and he forever quit the game. Alas, poor chap! He "went abroad," and didn't need to take his wad. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LOVER'S QUARREL by ROBERT BROWNING THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN by ROBERT BROWNING SEVEN TIMES FOUR [ - MATERNITY] by JEAN INGELOW PORTRAIT D'UNE FEMME by EZRA POUND ELEGIAC SONNET: 7. ON THE DEPARTURE OF THE NIGHTINGALE by CHARLOTTE SMITH |