The Wanderer

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916)

To see the clouds his spirit yearned toward so

Over new mountains piled and unploughed waves,

Back of old-storied spires and architraves

To watch Arcturus rise or Fomalhaut,

And roused by street-cries in strange tongues when day

Flooded with gold some domed metropolis,

Between new towers to waken and new bliss

Spread on his pillow in a wondrous way:

These were his joys. Oft under bulging crates,

Coming to market with his morning load,

The peasant found him early on his road

To greet the sunrise at the city-gates,—

There where the meadows waken in its rays,

Golden with mist, and the great roads commence,

And backward, where the chimney-tops are dense,

Cathedral-arches glimmer through the haze.

White dunes that breaking show a strip of sea,

A plowman and his team against the blue

Swiss pastures musical with cowbells, too,

And poplar-lined canals in Picardie,

And coast-towns where the vultures back and forth

Sail in the clear depths of the tropic sky,

And swallows in the sunset where they fly

Over gray Gothic cities in the north,

And the wine-cellar and the chorus there,

The dance-hall and a face among the crowd,—

Were all delights that made him sing aloud

For joy to sojourn in a world so fair.

Back of his footsteps as he journeyed fell

Range after range; ahead blue hills emerged.

Before him tireless to applaud it surged

The sweet interminable spectacle.

And like the west behind a sundown sea

Shone the past joys his memory retraced,

And bright as the blue east he always faced

Beckoned the loves and joys that were to be.

From every branch a blossom for his brow

He gathered, singing down Life’s flower-lined road,

And youth impelled his spirit as he strode

Like winged Victory on the galley’s prow.

That Loveliness whose being sun and star,

Green Earth and dawn and amber evening robe,

That lamp whereof the opalescent globe

The season’s emulative splendors are,

That veiled divinity whose beams transpire

From every pore of universal space,

As the fair soul illumes the lovely face—

That was his guest, his passion, his desire.

His heart the love of Beauty held as hides

One gem most pure a casket of pure gold.

It was too rich a lesser thing to bold;

It was not large enough for aught besides.

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Poems in English 

• Autumn Leaves by Thomas J Camp by Poetry In English
• You by Thonda Sri Indrani by Poetry In English
• You Will Forget! by Timothy Thomas Fortune by Poetry In English
• Written at Stonehenge by Thomas Warton by Poetry In English
• Words Of Love Forevermore by Timothy Thomas Fortune by Poetry In English
• Why? by Tiffany Ann Monroe by Poetry In English
• While Summer Suns O’er the Gay Prospect Play’d by Thomas Warton by Poetry In English
• What Is Woman But A Song! by Timothy Thomas Fortune by Poetry In English
• We are Africa by Timileyin Gabriel Olajuwon by Poetry In English
• Virgule by Thomas Lux by Poetry In English
• Verses on Sir Joshua Reynold’s Painted Window at New College, Oxford by Thomas Warton by Poetry In English
• Vagueness Petrified by Thonda Sri Indrani by Poetry In English
• Unlike, For Example, The Sound Of A Riptooth Saw by Thomas Lux by Poetry In English
• Town Planning Agencies by Tilottama Chatterjee by Poetry In English
• Torn Shades by Thomas Lux by Poetry In English
• The Road That Runs Beside The River by Thomas Lux by Poetry In English
• The Pulling Away by Timothy Cole by Poetry In English
• The Pleasures of Melancholy by Thomas Warton by Poetry In English
• The Man Into Whose Yard You Should Not Hit Your Ball by Thomas Lux by Poetry In English
• The Mocking Bird by Timothy Thomas Fortune by Poetry In English

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