The Wanderer

By Sir Henry Newbolt

To Youth there comes a whisper out of the west:

“O loiterer, hasten where there waits for thee

A life to build, a love therein to nest,

And a man's work, serving the age to be.”

Peace, peace awhile! Before his tireless feet

Hill beyond hill the road in sunlight goes;

He breathes the breath of morning, clear and sweet,

And his eyes love the high eternal snows.