Explore "The Curse of the Wandering Foot" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
All hope of rest withdrawn me? -- / What dread command hath put / This awful curse upon me -- / The curse of the wandering foot!
Forward and backward and thither, / And hither and yon again -- / Wandering ever! And whither?
Answer them, God! Amen.
The blue skies are far o'er me -- - / The bleak fields near below: / Where the mother that bore me? -- / Where her grave in the snow? -- / Glad in her trough of a coffin -- / The sad eyes frozen shut / That wept so often, often, / The curse of the wandering foot!
Here in your marts I care not / Whatsoever ye think.
Good folk many who dare not / Give me to eat and drink: / Give me to sup of your pity -- / Feast me on prayers! -- O ye, / Met I your Christ in the city / He would fare forth with me --
Forward and onward and thither, / And hither again and yon, / With milk for our drink together / And honey to feed upon -- / Nor hope of rest withdrawn us, / Since the one Father put / The blessed curse upon us -- / The curse of the wandering foot.