The Traveler

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Oh, who would choose to be a traveler? --That anxious railway-guide unravelerWho spends his nights in berths and bunks,His days in chaperoning trunks;Who stands in line at gates and wicketsTo spend his means on costly ticketsTo Irkutsk, Liverpool and YapAnd other dots upon the map.He never rests, but always hurriesFrom place to place, beset with worriesAbout hotels and future tripsAnd just how much to give in tips.He plods through galleries, museums,Cathedrals, castles, colosseums,And villages reputed quaintWith patience worthy of a saintTo give his friends the chance of hooting,"You didn't visit Little Tooting?!!"

© Guiterman Arthur