Pen and Ink

Excerpt from Pen and Ink: Papers on Subjects of More or Less Importance
Pen And Ink.
Ye wanderers that were my sires,
Who read men's fortunes in the band,
Who voyaged with your smithy fires
From waste to waste across the land,
Why did you leave for garth and town
Your life by heath and river's brink?
Why lay your Gipsy freedom down
And doom your child to Pen and Ink?
You wearied of the wild-wood meal
That crowned, or failed to crown, the day,
Too honest or too tame to steal,
You broke into the beaten way:
Plied loom or awl like other men
And learned to love the guinea's chink.
Oh, recreant sires, who doomed me then
To earn so few - with Pen and Ink!
Where it hath fallen the tree must lie.
'Tis over-late for Me to roam.
Yet the caged bird who bears the cry
Of his wild fellows fleeting home
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