You are here: Home > Browse books > Lyrics of the Hearthside, 1899> Vagrants
Previous Poem Previous       Next Next Poem

Poems in Lyrics of the Hearthside

Love's Apotheosis

The Paradox

Over the Hills

With the Lark

In Summer

The Mystic Sea

A Sailor's Song

The Bohemian

Absence

Her Thought and His

The Right to Die

Behind the Arras

When the Old Man Smokes

The Garret

To E.H.K.

A Bridal Measure

Vengeance is Sweet

A Hynm

Just Whistle a Bit

The Barrier

Dreams

The Dreamer

Waiting

The End of the Chapter

Sympathy

Love and Grief

Mortality

Love

She Gave Me a Rose

Dream Song. I.

Dream Song. II.

Christmas in the Heart

The King is Dead

Theology

Resignation

Love's Humility

Precedent

She Told Her Beads

Little Lucy Landman

The Gourd

The Knight

Thou Art My Lute

The Phantom Kiss

Communion

Mare Rubrum

In an English Garden

The Crisis

The Conquerors

Alexander Crummell - Dead

When All is Done

The Poet and the Baby

Distinction

The Sum

Sonnet

On the Sea Wall

To a Lady Playing the Harp

Confessional

Misapprehension

Prometheus

Love's Phases

For the Man Who Fails

Harriet Beecher Stowe

Vagrants

A Winter's Day

My Little March Girl

Remembered

Love Despoiled

The Lapse

The Warrior's Prayer

Farewell to Arcady

The Voice of the Banjo

The Stirrup Cup

A Choice

Then and Now

At Cheshire Cheese

My Corn-Cob Pipe

In August

The Disturber

Expectation

Lover's Lane

Protest

Hymn

Little Brown Baby

Time to Tinker' Roun'!

The Real Question

Jilted

The News

Chrismus on the Plantation

Angelina

Foolin' Wid de Seasons

My Sort 'o Man

Possum

On the Road

A Death Song

A Back-Log Song

Lullaby

The Photograph

Jealous

Parted

Temptation

Possum Trot

Dely

Breaking the Charm

Hunting Song

A Letter

Chrismus is A-Comin'

A Cabin Tale

At Candle-Lightin' Time

Whistling Sam

How Lucy Backslid

Vagrants

Long time ago, we two set out,
My soul and I.
I know not why,
For all our way was dim with doubt.
I know not where
We two may fare:
Though still with every changing weather,
We wander, groping on together.

We do not love, we are not friends,
My soul and I.
He lives a lie;
Untruth lines every way he wends.
A scoffer he
Who jeers at me:
And so, my comrade and my brother,
We wander on and hate each other.

Ay, there be taverns and to spare,
Beside the road;
But some strange goad
Lets me not stop to taste their fare.
Knew I the goal
Toward which my soul
And I made way, hope made life fragrant:
But no. We wander, aimless, vagrant!

Previous Poem Previous         Next Next poem

Copyright Information © 2005 
For more information contact: Archives
Last updated Wed. Aug-20-08