“Beyond the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea,And East and West the wanderlust that will not let me be;It works in me like madness, dear, to bid me say good-by!For the seas call and the stars call, and oh, the call of the sky!I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are,But man can have the sun for friend, and for his guide a star;And there's no end of voyaging when once the voice is heard,For the river calls and the road calls, and oh, the call of a bird!Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and dayThe old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away;And come I may, but go I must, and if men ask you why,You may put the blame on the stars and the sun and the white road and the sky!”