Explore "The Traveled Man" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Sometimes I wish the railroads all were torn out, / The ships all sunk among the coral strands. / I am so very weary, yea so worn out, / With tales of those who visit foreign lands.
When asked to dine, to meet these traveled people, / My soup seems brewed from cemetery bones. / The fish grows cold on some cathedral steeple, / I miss two courses while I stare at thrones.