dots-menu
×

Home  »  An American Anthology, 1787–1900  »  1533 The Wander-Lovers

Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By RichardHovey

1533 The Wander-Lovers

DOWN the world with Marna!

That ’s the life for me!

Wandering with the wandering wind,

Vagabond and unconfined!

Roving with the roving rain

Its unboundaried domain!

Kith and kin of wander-kind,

Children of the sea!

Petrels of the sea-drift!

Swallows of the lea!

Arabs of the whole wide girth

Of the wind-encircled earth!

In all climes we pitch our tents,

Cronies of the elements,

With the secret lords of birth

Intimate and free.

All the seaboard knows us

From Fundy to the Keys;

Every bend and every creek

Of abundant Chesapeake;

Ardise hills and Newport coves

And the far-off orange groves,

Where Floridian oceans break,

Tropic tiger seas.

Down the world with Marna,

Tarrying there and here!

Just as much at home in Spain

As in Tangier or Touraine!

Shakespeare’s Avon knows us well,

And the crags of Neufchâtel;

And the ancient Nile is fain

Of our coming near.

Down the world with Marna,

Daughter of the air!

Marna of the subtle grace,

And the vision in her face!

Moving in the measure trod

By the angels before God!

With her sky-blue eyes amaze

And her sea-blue hair!

Marna with the trees’ life

In her veins a-stir!

Marna of the aspen heart

Where the sudden quivers start!

Quick-responsive, subtle, wild!

Artless as an artless child,

Spite of all her reach of art!

Oh, to roam with her!

Marna with the wind’s will,

Daughter of the sea!

Marna of the quick disdain,

Starting at the dream of stain!

At a smile with love aglow,

At a frown a statued woe,

Standing pinnacled in pain

Till a kiss sets free!

Down the world with Marna,

Daughter of the fire!

Marna of the deathless hope,

Still alert to win new scope

Where the wings of life may spread

For a flight unhazarded!

Dreaming of the speech to cope

With the heart’s desire!

Marna of the far quest

After the divine!

Striving ever for some goal

Past the blunder-god’s control!

Dreaming of potential years

When no day shall dawn in fears!

That ’s the Marna of my soul,

Wander-bride of mine!