The Adventure
by ROBERT HILLYER
CANDIDA said to me, “Where are you going tomorrow?”
“I am going across the sea to a livelier land.
The plow is rusting away in the half-tilled furrow;
This country has grown too tame for my mariner’s hand.”
The wind sang like the wind through a schooner’s shrouds,
And the hills billowed with shadows from billowing clouds.
“I am going across the sea to a livelier land.
The plow is rusting away in the half-tilled furrow;
This country has grown too tame for my mariner’s hand.”
The wind sang like the wind through a schooner’s shrouds,
And the hills billowed with shadows from billowing clouds.
Candida said to me, “Then you will leave me. I thought so.
You and your islands where everything’s set for a feast;
But vows and faith mean something. At least I was taught so —
Besides, there is nothing but War in your fabulous East.”
“So much the better,” I answered; “I’d rather be dust
In the storm of the world than a creature of habit, and rust.”
You and your islands where everything’s set for a feast;
But vows and faith mean something. At least I was taught so —
Besides, there is nothing but War in your fabulous East.”
“So much the better,” I answered; “I’d rather be dust
In the storm of the world than a creature of habit, and rust.”
Candida looked at. me smiling. I shifted and mumbled,
“Well, you can smile. I know you have heard this before.”
She turned on her heel and left me. She knew I was humbled.
And I shouted, “Oh, can’t a man dream in spite of the War?”
The sun was the golden disk of a Viking shield
As I laughed and went back to the plow and finished the field.
“Well, you can smile. I know you have heard this before.”
She turned on her heel and left me. She knew I was humbled.
And I shouted, “Oh, can’t a man dream in spite of the War?”
The sun was the golden disk of a Viking shield
As I laughed and went back to the plow and finished the field.