Analysis of The Wanderlust
The Wanderlust has lured me to the seven lonely seas,
Has dumped me on the tailing-piles of dearth;
The Wanderlust has haled me from the morris chairs of ease,
Has hurled me to the ends of all the earth.
How bitterly I've cursed it, oh, the Painted Desert knows,
The wraithlike heights that hug the pallid plain,
The all-but-fluid silence, -- yet the longing grows and grows,
And I've got to glut the Wanderlust again.
Soldier, sailor, in what a plight I've been!
Tinker, tailor, oh what a sight I've seen!
And I'm hitting the trail in the morning, boys,
And you won't see my heels for dust;
For it's "all day" with you
When you answer the cue
Of the Wan-der-lust.
The Wanderlust has got me . . . by the belly-aching fire,
By the fever and the freezing and the pain;
By the darkness that just drowns you, by the wail of home desire,
I've tried to break the spell of it -- in vain.
Life might have been a feast for me, now there are only crumbs;
In rags and tatters, beggar-wise I sit;
Yet there's no rest or peace for me, imperious it drums,
The Wanderlust, and I must follow it.
Highway, by-way, many a mile I've done;
Rare way, fair way, many a height I've won;
But I'm pulling my freight in the morning, boys,
And it's over the hills or bust;
For there's never a cure
When you list to the lure
Of the Wan-der-lust.
The Wanderlust has taught me . . . it has whispered to my heart
Things all you stay-at-homes will never know.
The white man and the savage are but three short days apart,
Three days of cursing, crawling, doubt and woe.
Then it's down to chewing muclucs, to the water you can eat,
To fish you bolt with nose held in your hand.
When you get right down to cases, it's King's Grub that rules the races,
And the Wanderlust will help you understand.
Haunting, taunting, that is the spell of it;
Mocking, baulking, that is the hell of it;
But I'll shoulder my pack in the morning, boys,
And I'm going because I must;
For it's so-long to all
When you answer the call
Of the Wan-der-lust.
The Wanderlust has blest me . . . in a ragged blanket curled,
I've watched the gulf of Heaven foam with stars;
I've walked with eyes wide open to the wonder of the world,
I've seen God's flood of glory burst its bars.
I've seen the gold a-blinding in the riffles of the sky,
Till I fancied me a bloated plutocrat;
But I'm freedom's happy bond-slave, and I will be till I die,
And I've got to thank the Wanderlust for that.
Wild heart, child heart, all of the world your home.
Glad heart, mad heart, what can you do but roam?
Oh, I'll beat it once more in the morning, boys,
With a pinch of tea and a crust;
For you cannot deny
When you hark to the cry
Of the Wan-der-lust.
The Wanderlust will claim me at the finish for its own.
I'll turn my back on men and face the Pole.
Beyond the Arctic outposts I will venture all alone;
Some Never-never Land will be my goal.
Thank God! there's none will miss me, for I've been a bird of flight;
And in my moccasins I'll take my call;
For the Wanderlust has ruled me,
And the Wanderlust has schooled me,
And I'm ready for the darkest trail of all.
Grim land, dim land, oh, how the vastness calls!
Far land, star land, oh, how the stillness falls!
For you never can tell if it's heaven or hell,
And I'm taking the trail on trust;
But I haven't a doubt
That my soul will leap out
On its Wan-der-lust.
Scheme | ababcdcx xxefggF hdhdijij kkefllF mnmnxoxo jjefppF qrqrstst uuefssF vwvwxpxxp yyxfzzf |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 0101111010101 1111010111 0101111010111 1111011101 11001111010101 011110101 01110101010101 0111101001 1010010111 1010110111 01100100101 01111111 111111 111001 10111 01011110101010 10100010001 1010111110111010 1111011101 11110111111101 0101010111 11111111010011 010011101 111100111 1111100111 11101100101 01100111 111001 111101 10111 0101111110111 1111111101 01100101111101 1111010101 11111011010111 1111111011 1111111011111010 001011101 1010110111 101110111 11101100101 01100111 111111 111001 10111 0101110010101 1101110111 11111101010101 1111110111 1101010001101 1110101010 111010110111111 0111101011 1111110111 1111111111 11111100101 10111001 111001 111101 10111 0101111010111 1111110101 0101011110101 1101011111 11111111110111 0011001111 1010111 0010111 01101010111 1111110101 1111110101 111011111011 01100111 111001 111111 11111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 3,318 |
Words | 634 |
Sentences | 36 |
Stanzas | 10 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 7, 8, 7, 8, 7, 8, 7, 9, 7 |
Lines Amount | 76 |
Letters per line (avg) | 33 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 251 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 64 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on May 01, 2023
- 3:21 min read
- 152 Views
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"The Wanderlust" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/32681/the-wanderlust>.
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