Poem March 7, 1964 Issue

ADVENTURE

Ethel Walker

Go, traveler, go.
Yet once again you thrill to a good-bye.
Adventure flushed, your dear face tries to hide
The pity for such stay-at-home as I.
Go stand before the tombs of mighty dead
And where the "living Buddha" reigns: or where
Starved Gobi dogs fill desert nights with dread.

Go, seeker, go.
And fill the urge beyond your frail control
To search the ways of other beasts and men,
But let me search the infinite realm of Soul
To find the land where lion and the lamb
Lie down in peace. For when I find that place,
Then I shall know just who or what I am.

Ethel Walker

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