Frank Osgood 1870-1919

Frank Osgood 1870-1919 I was the great wanderlust of Whittier! From 1890 until my last days, I followed my nose, And other body appendages, To distant earthly destinations, Both sensational and disgusting, From the calm tranquility of a secure home, To the chaos and uncertainty, Of traveling with heavy bags, aching feet, And certain fears, I, nevertheless, Decided to break out and seek other lands, Other people, and other vistas. Sickness did awfully afflict me many times, As I lay retching inside many a tent, But always I was learning, and thriving. To far-away Rome I traipsed, To Paris, Venice and London too. From the streets of Madrid to The far-away shores of the Mediterranean, Where The Christ founded a mighty religion, I ventured and saw, and tasted! I hunted on safari in Eastern Africa and Shot a gazelle from a standing position. In beautiful South America and Asia, My restless feet found another universe, Of unworldly sights and strange rituals. My friends! It was amazing indeed to drink it all in, Like a cool fruit drink from Rio. But my thirst for wandering was never slaked. And then it ended, Like the quick waking from a dream, When I died at home of a measly fever. Most ironic indeed. And so, as for my epitaph, This is it: “‘Tis a heap of profit to travel.”