Page:More songs by the fighting men, soldier poets, second series, 1917.djvu/49

John Eugene Crombie My dream-path led through the Furnace, and Pain, and Fire—

I could not stay nor turn from the road in flight—

But I knew it would lead me back past the Hill of Desire

To the warm hearth-stones in the City of Quiet Delight.

The Pedlar

HERE'S a broken, lame old pedlar a-limping down the street,

Cold sorrow at his heart, a hard road beneath his feet,

Lifeless walls around him and a leaden sky above

As he searches through the city for the face of his lost Love.

Red and blue and golden leaps the flame of his desire;

Red, for glowing embers of a vagabond's night fire,

Blue, to seek the deep unf athomed glory of the sea,

And gold for Northern sunsets, wealth of beggars such as he.

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