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The Wistful One

 I sought the trails of South and North,
I wandered East and West;
But pride and passion drove me forth
And would not let me rest.
And still I seek, as still I roam, A snug roof overhead; Four walls, my own; a quiet home.
.
.
.
"You'll have it -- when you're dead.
"

Poem by Robert William Service
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