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The Wanderer

Topics: classic

There is nobody on the road     But I,     And no beseeming abode     I can try     For shelter, so abroad     I must lie.     The stars feel not far up,     And to be     The lights by which I sup     Glimmeringly,     Set out in a hollow cup     Over me.     They wag as though they were     Panting for joy     Where they shine, above all care,     And annoy,     And demons of despair -     Life's alloy.     Sometimes outside the fence     Feet swing past,     Clock-like, and then go hence,     Till at last     There is a silence, dense,     Deep, and vast.     A wanderer, witch-drawn     To and fro,     To-morrow, at the dawn,     On I go,     And where I rest anon     Do not know!     Yet it's meet this bed of hay     And roofless plight;     For there's a house of clay,     My own, quite,     To roof me soon, all day     And all night.

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"There is nobody on the road..."

Exploring the themes of classic, Thomas Hardy delivers a powerful performance in "The Wanderer"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

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