The Wanderer

A poem by Alfred Tennyson

The gleam of household sunshine ends,
And here no longer can I rest;
Farewell! - You will not speak, my friends,
Unfriendly of your parted guest.

O well for him that finds a friend,
Or makes a friend where’er he come,
And loves the world from end to end,
And wanders on from home to home!

O happy he, and fit to live,
On whom a happy home has power
To make him trust his life, and give
His fealty to the halcyon hour!

I count you kind, I hold you true;
But what may follow who can tell?
Give me a hand-and you-and you-
And deem me grateful, and farewell!

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'The Wanderer' by Alfred Tennyson

comments powered by Disqus