Monday, February 18, 2013
There was a boy named Grumble Tone who ran away to sea.
"I'm sick of things on land," he said, "as sick as I can be;
A life upon the bounding wave will suit a lad like me!"
The seething ocean billows failed to stimulate his mirth,
For he did not like the vessel, nor the dizzy, rolling berth,
and he thought the sea was almost as unpleasant as the earth.
He wandered into foreign lands, he saw each wondrous sight,
But nothing that he heard or saw seemed just exactly right;
And so he journeyed on and on, still seeking for delight.
He talked with kings and ladies fair; he dined in courts, they say,
But always found the people dull, and longed to get away
To search for that mysterious land where he would like to stay.
He wandered over all the world, his hair grew white as snow;
He reached that final bourne at last where all of us must go.
But never found the land he sought. The reason you would know?
The reason was that north or south, where'er his steps were bent,
On land or sea, in court or hall, he found but discontent;
For he took his disposition with him everywhere he went.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox 1892