English poetry

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The Wistful One

I sought the trails of South and North,
I wandered East and West;
But pride and passion drove me forth
And would not let me rest.
And still I seek, as still I roam,
A snug roof overhead;
Four walls, my own; a quiet home. . . .
“You’ll have it when you’re dead.”


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Poem The Wistful One - Robert William Service