wanderer

Thou waitest for the spark from heaven! and we, Light half-believers in our casual creeds† Who hesitate and falter life away, And lose tomorrow the ground won todayö Ah, do not we,Wanderer, await it too?

—Arnold, Matthew

Oxus, forgetting the bright speed he had In his high mountain cradle in Pamere, A foiled circuitous wandererötill at last The longed-for dash of waves is heard, and wide His luminous home of waters opens, bright And tranquil, from whose floor the new-bathed stars Emerge, and shine upon the Aral Sea.

—Arnold, Matthew