THE SEEKER
NOT of the whip-herded ninety and nine—
Slaves of each petty woe or weal,
Dragged at convention's chariot wheel—
Would be this wakened, panting soul of mine.
Slaves of each petty woe or weal,
Dragged at convention's chariot wheel—
Would be this wakened, panting soul of mine.
But I would be the One who, undismayed,
Joy-eyed with freedom, from the common press
Went forth into the wilderness,
The One the grieving shepherd said had "strayed."
Joy-eyed with freedom, from the common press
Went forth into the wilderness,
The One the grieving shepherd said had "strayed."
Strayed? It only wearied of the trodden way,
The narrow grooves, the empty creeds,
And breaking through the hedging wayside weeds
It climbed the mountain peaks to meet the day!
The narrow grooves, the empty creeds,
And breaking through the hedging wayside weeds
It climbed the mountain peaks to meet the day!
So would I be. Old beaten tracks, old bars,
Old shells of faiths I'd leave below,
And up far heights of sun and snow
I'd find a new trail to the beckoning stars!
Old shells of faiths I'd leave below,
And up far heights of sun and snow
I'd find a new trail to the beckoning stars!
WILD OATS
"AH, let them alone—"'tis the age-old cry—
Boys will ever be boys, you know;
They must plow the world to the rim of youth,
Their fields of wild oats they must sow,
Let them alone—they are immune
To leash of straight-laced moral code.
BOYS WILL BE BOYS; they measure life
By laws that license has bestowed."
Boys will ever be boys, you know;
They must plow the world to the rim of youth,
Their fields of wild oats they must sow,
Let them alone—they are immune
To leash of straight-laced moral code.
BOYS WILL BE BOYS; they measure life
By laws that license has bestowed."
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