As One Who Wanders
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Alec de Candole
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As one who wanders on a desert plain.
An arid waste of dead sterility,
Then finds a green oasis suddenly.
And slakes his thirst there, and forgets his pain.
Resting awhile from the long journey's strain
'Neath the cool shade of some o'erarching tree
In full content, and yearneth longingly
In that sweet place for ever to remain ;
So has it been my fortune all this day
Beneath the cloud-flecked blue of heaven's wide dome
To rest in quiet ease, my spirit at home.
All weary care and labour put away.
Free now and happy, ere again I roam,
Once more in void and barren paths to stray.
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