Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By RichardHovey1533 The Wander-Lovers
D
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!
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.
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.
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.
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!
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!
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!
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!
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!