Poems (Linn)/Wandering Willie

by Edith Willis Linn

WANDERING WILLIE.

THERE was once a little boy,
 Wandering Willie,
And his eyes were like the light
That in springtime warmly lies
In the violet's tender eyes,
Or upon the summer skies
   When days are bright.

His hair was like the flower
   Of the hazel,
Which, when autumn woods are gay,
Blooms along the pasture wall,
Or like dancing lights that fall
Through the forests dark and tall,
   Like elves at play.

I will tell you whence his name,
   Wandering Willie;
Never was this baby still,
All day long his feet would stray
Down the dusty, scorching way,
Over meadows flower-gay,
   Or pine-grown hill.

Always laden were his hands
   With some treasure.
Flowers from the rarest nook,
Birds' eggs broken in their fall,
Cones from pine and fir-tree tall,
Lichens from the gray stone-wall,
   Beside the brook.

Or when bound to keep the peace,
   Wandering Willie,
Dreaming of a wondrous land,
In the tasseled grass would lie
Looking up into the sky
Where the cloud-ships floated by,
   All white and grand.

When I asked him what he dreamed,
   He would answer:
"Of the time when I shall sail
Far away beyond the sea,
A gay prince or knight to be."
"Will you come again to me,
   Come without fail?"

Then he'd answer with a kiss,
   Lightly laughing:
"I will come home every night,
Mamma dear, and bring you gold,
Treasures wonderful and old,
All the flowers I can hold,
   Most fair and bright."

And ere long it happened so.
   Wandering Willie
Took the journey he had planned;
But this time he did not stray,
For we bore him on that day,
And fair blossoms strowed the way,
   Unto that land.

Keep your promise made to me
   Wandering Willie.
Come to bless me in grief's night;
Bring me treasures rare and old,
Hope and faith more bright than gold;
Bring me love that grows not cold
   For want of sight.