For works with similar titles, see The Wanderer.
THE WANDERER.
I came into this beautiful world
Like a leaf tossed on the sea;
A leaf from the tree of life down-hurled,
O there was no place for me
In the dizzy surges that tossed and whirled
In the great, wide, cruel, beautiful world!
Like a leaf tossed on the sea;
A leaf from the tree of life down-hurled,
O there was no place for me
In the dizzy surges that tossed and whirled
In the great, wide, cruel, beautiful world!
On the beautiful, deep unrest
Alone, oh, so all alone!
Sometimes up, up, to the wave's white crest,
By some wandering wind-sprite blown;
Sometimes rocked low in the cradle rest
Of some mighty billow's heaving breast.
Alone, oh, so all alone!
Sometimes up, up, to the wave's white crest,
By some wandering wind-sprite blown;
Sometimes rocked low in the cradle rest
Of some mighty billow's heaving breast.
Roll, mighty years that are hurrying
To its goal the exiled leaf!
Roll mighty billow and weep and sing,
Your gladness and your grief;
Each unto each its own shall bring,
Every flying year is an angel's wing.
To its goal the exiled leaf!
Roll mighty billow and weep and sing,
Your gladness and your grief;
Each unto each its own shall bring,
Every flying year is an angel's wing.