The Wanderer

The World is wide to walk on weary feet. 
    With step by step along each lengthening mile: 
    Never the sunbeams on a cottage smile,
Where Love and Quiet build their cool retreat,
But, inly sad, I ask a home as sweet; 
    Then happy dreams a little way beguile, 
    Rounding the wide earth to a tiny isle,
Where all delights in a green circle meet. 
But the broad world re-pains my lifted eye; 
    I wander homeless by a thousand Homes;
I tire of this unbounded liberty;
    ‘Tis no right freedom that forever roams:
A Cot, a green Field, and sweet company
    Of Wife and Babes, were world enough for me !