THE WANDERER {1}1 With acknowledgment to my friend Sir A. Quiller-Couch.'Twas in the shadowy gloamingOf a cold and wet March day,That a wanderer came roamingFrom countries far away.Scant raiment had he round him,Nor purse, nor worldly gear,Hungry and faint we found him,And bade him welcome here.His weary frame bent double,His eyes were old and dim,His face was writhed with troubleWhich none might share with him.His speech was strange and broken,And none could understand,Such words as might be spokenIn some far distant land.We guessed not whence he hailed from,Nor knew what far-off quayHis roving bark had sailed fromBefore he came to me.But there he was, so slender,So helpless and so pale,That my wife's heart grew tenderFor one who seemed so frail.She cried, "But you must bide here!You shall no further roam.Grow stronger by our side here,Within our moorland home!"She laid her best before him,Homely and simple fare,And to his couch she bore himThe raiment he should wear.To mine he had been welcome,My suit of russet brown,But she had dressed our weary guestIn a loose and easy gown.And long in peace he lay there,Brooding and still and weak,Smiling from day to day thereAt thoughts he would not speak.The months flowed on, but everOur guest would still remain,Nor made the least endeavourTo leave our home again.He heeded not for grammar,Nor did we care to teach,But soon he learned to stammerSome words of English speech.With these our guest would tell usThe things that he liked best,And order and compel usTo follow his behest.He ruled us without malice,But as if he owned us all,A sultan in his palaceWith his servants at his call.Those calls came fast and faster,Our service still we gave,Till I who had been masterHad grown to be his slave.He claimed with grasping gesturesEach thing of price he saw,Watches and rings and vestures,His will the only law.In vain had I commanded,In vain I struggled still,Servants and wife were bandedTo do the stranger's will.And then in deep dejectionIt came to me one day,That my own wife's affectionHad been beguiled away.Our love had known no danger,So certain had it been!And now to think a strangerShould dare to step between.I saw him lie and harkenTo the little songs she sung,And when the shadows darkenI could hear his lisping tongue.They would sit in chambers shady,When the light was growing dim,Ah, my fickle-hearted lady!With your arm embracing him.So, at last, lest he divide us,I would put them to the test.There was no one there beside us,Save this interloping guest.So I took my stand before them,Very silent and erect,My accusing glance passed o'er them,Though with no observed effect.But the lamp light shone upon her,And I saw each tell-tale feature,As I cried, "Now, on your honour,Do or don't you love the creature?"But her answer seemed evasive,It was "Ducky-doodle-doo!If his mummy loves um babby,Doesn't daddums love um too?"
'Twas in the shadowy gloamingOf a cold and wet March day,That a wanderer came roamingFrom countries far away.Scant raiment had he round him,Nor purse, nor worldly gear,Hungry and faint we found him,And bade him welcome here.His weary frame bent double,His eyes were old and dim,His face was writhed with troubleWhich none might share with him.His speech was strange and broken,And none could understand,Such words as might be spokenIn some far distant land.We guessed not whence he hailed from,Nor knew what far-off quayHis roving bark had sailed fromBefore he came to me.But there he was, so slender,So helpless and so pale,That my wife's heart grew tenderFor one who seemed so frail.She cried, "But you must bide here!You shall no further roam.Grow stronger by our side here,Within our moorland home!"She laid her best before him,Homely and simple fare,And to his couch she bore himThe raiment he should wear.To mine he had been welcome,My suit of russet brown,But she had dressed our weary guestIn a loose and easy gown.And long in peace he lay there,Brooding and still and weak,Smiling from day to day thereAt thoughts he would not speak.The months flowed on, but everOur guest would still remain,Nor made the least endeavourTo leave our home again.He heeded not for grammar,Nor did we care to teach,But soon he learned to stammerSome words of English speech.With these our guest would tell usThe things that he liked best,And order and compel usTo follow his behest.He ruled us without malice,But as if he owned us all,A sultan in his palaceWith his servants at his call.Those calls came fast and faster,Our service still we gave,Till I who had been masterHad grown to be his slave.He claimed with grasping gesturesEach thing of price he saw,Watches and rings and vestures,His will the only law.In vain had I commanded,In vain I struggled still,Servants and wife were bandedTo do the stranger's will.And then in deep dejectionIt came to me one day,That my own wife's affectionHad been beguiled away.Our love had known no danger,So certain had it been!And now to think a strangerShould dare to step between.I saw him lie and harkenTo the little songs she sung,And when the shadows darkenI could hear his lisping tongue.They would sit in chambers shady,When the light was growing dim,Ah, my fickle-hearted lady!With your arm embracing him.So, at last, lest he divide us,I would put them to the test.There was no one there beside us,Save this interloping guest.So I took my stand before them,Very silent and erect,My accusing glance passed o'er them,Though with no observed effect.But the lamp light shone upon her,And I saw each tell-tale feature,As I cried, "Now, on your honour,Do or don't you love the creature?"But her answer seemed evasive,It was "Ducky-doodle-doo!If his mummy loves um babby,Doesn't daddums love um too?"