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Paul Laurence Dunbar - Vagrants
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Long time ago, we two set out,
    My soul and I.
    I know not why,
  For all our way was dim with doubt.
    I know not where
    We two may fare:
  Though still with every changing weather,
  We wander, groping on together.

  We do not love, we are not friends,
    My soul and I.
    He lives a lie;
  Untruth lines every way he wends.
    A scoffer he
    Who jeers at me:
  And so, my comrade and my brother,
  We wander on and hate each other.

  Ay, there be taverns and to spare,
    Beside the road;
    But some strange goad
  Lets me not stop to taste their fare.
    Knew I the goal
    Toward which my soul
  And I made way, hope made life fragrant:
  But no. We wander, aimless, vagrant!
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