Wander-Thirst / Gerald Gould

Wander-Thirst

Beyond the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea,
And East and West the wander-thirst that will not let me be;
It works in me like madness, dear, to bid me say good-bye;
For the seas call, and the stars call, and oh! the call of the sky!

I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are;
But a man can have the sun for a friend, and for his guide a star;
And there's no end of voyaging when once the voice is heard,
For the rivers call, and the roads call, and oh! the call of the bird!

Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and day
The old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away;
And come I may, but go I must, and, if men ask you why,
You may put the blame on the stars and the sun and the white road and the sky.

~~
Gerald Gould (1885-1936)
from Lyrics, 1908

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Gerald Gould biography

"The Wander Thist" performed by The Hall Brothers, 2002. Courtesy Duncan Hall.

The Happy Tree / Gerald Gould

The Happy Tree

There was a bright and happy tree;
     The wind with music laced its boughs;
Thither across the homeless seas
     Came singing birds to house.

Men grudged the tree its happy eves,
     Its happy dawns of eager sound;
So that all crown and tower of leaves
     They leveled with the ground.

They made an upright of the stem,
     A cross-piece of a bough they made;
No shadow of their deed on them
     Their fallen branches laid.

But blithely, since the year was young,
     When they a fitting hill did find,
There on the happy tree they hung
     The Saviour of mankind.

~~
Gerald Gould (1885-1936)
from The Happy Tree, and other poems, 1919

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Gerald Gould biography

Gerald Gould biography

Mortality / Gerald Gould

Mortality

In the green quiet wood where I was used,
    In summer, to a welcome calm and dark,
I found the threat of murder introduced
    By scars of white paint on the wrinkled bark.

How few old friends were to be spared! And now
    I see my friends with new eyes here in town
Men as trees walking, and on every brow
    A pallid scar, and all to be cut down.

~~
Gerald Gould (1885-1936)
from Beauty, the Pilgrim, 1927

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the European Union]

Gerald Gould biography