Poems By Mary Elizabeth Coleridge |
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 | Poems |  |
93
XCI
WANDERERS
Love is a Rome, and many roads there be
Leading to that great City of Delight,
Old—new—religious—everything but free—
A dream by day—a solid town at night.
All roads are good for entrance, none for flight,
And every traveller sees what he would see.
Leading to that great City of Delight,
Old—new—religious—everything but free—
A dream by day—a solid town at night.
All roads are good for entrance, none for flight,
And every traveller sees what he would see.
The roads lead hither over many a hill,
Through countries parted by the salt sea-foam,
And many names they bear—Affliction still
The safest—but at length they all lead home.
Accuse us not of wandering at our will!
Life's clearest voice it is that bids us roam.
Through countries parted by the salt sea-foam,
And many names they bear—Affliction still
The safest—but at length they all lead home.
Accuse us not of wandering at our will!
Life's clearest voice it is that bids us roam.
| Poems | |