ON unknown paths I falter forth,
A homeless wand'rer in the world;
Doubtful I flit across the earth,
Whither by blowing fates I'm hurled.
I grope about the pathless wood;
I tread along the boundless plain;
And with the wind's capricious mood,
I sink and rise upon the main.
The lonely cloud within the sky,
That by conflicting gales is torn,
Sways to and fro no more than I,
Now eastward, and now westward borne.
The crested billow on the deep
Knows to which shore its current lies;
The blast--the realms which he must sweep;
The ant--the hill to which it hies.
The stork that seeks the tropic glows,
It knoweth whither it is bound;
And the revolving planet knows
The circle of its luminous round.
But I, confusèd, seek a way
In darkness here; I fall, I sigh,
Upon a broken wing I stray,
And all my help lies in a cry!
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