The Lust Of The Wander Poem by Francis Duggan

The lust of the wander is powerful it grows and it grows every day
It draws people to distant places from their old Hometown far away,
It draws them to the bigger Cities to London, New York, Paris and Rome
To Tokyo, Moscow and Sydney and Melbourne far distant from home.

Those bitten by the bug of wander must wander the World till they die
They never feel tied to the one place and settled in their ways like I,
They feel the great yearn for new places each time they see a plane in the sky
And they feel so happy whilst travelling the wandering life style they enjoy.

They leave the old Townland forever and say goodbye to the old hill
And to the river and the wood and the meadow and to the dipper who sings in the rill,
The love of the Homeland one might say to them hardly ever apply
And nostalgia doesn't seem to affect them and few of them go home to die.

Those bitten by the bug of wander become part of the nomadic race
And they don't have a sense of belonging to any Land or any place
They travel the highways and byways from the north to the southern shore
And few of them ever re-visit the place they were raised in ever more.

The lust of the wander is powerful 'tis an irrestible thing
the bards they have written about it and the balladeers of it do sing
It takes people far from their Homelands to distant parts far beyond the seas
And only the sight of new places the bug of the wander appease.