Edgar Albert Guest (20 August 1881 - 5 August 1959 / Birmingham / England)

Wherever you may chance to be — wherever you may roam,
Far away in foreign lands; or just at home sweet home;
It always gives you pleasure, it makes your heart strings hum
Just to hear
The words of cheer,
'I see you've travelled some.'

When you get a brother’s greeting, and he takes you by the hand,
It thrills you with a feeling that you cannot understand,
You feel that bond of brotherhood, that tie that’s sure to come
When you hear him say
In a friendly way
'I see you've travelled some.'

And if you are a stranger, in strange lands all alone
If fate has left you stranded, dead broke and far from home,
Oh, it's a grand and glorious feeling, it thrills you; makes you numb,
When he says with a grip
Of fellowship,
'I see you've travelled some.'

And when your final summons comes, to take a last long trip,
Adorned with Lambskin Apron White and gems of fellowship —
The Tiler at the Golden Gate, with Square and Level and Plumb
Will size up your pin
And say 'Walk In:
I see you've travelled some.'