THE SEEKERS.
Friends and loves we have none, nor wealth nor blessed abode,
But the hope of the City of God at the other end of the road.
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Not for us are content, and quiet, and peace of mind,
For we go seeking a city that we shall never find.
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There is no solace on earth for us--for such as we--
Who search for a hidden city that we shall never see.
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Only the road and the dawn, the sun, the wind, and the rain,
And the watch-fire under stars, and sleep, and the road again.
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We seek the City of God, and the haunt where beauty dwells,
And we find the noisy mart and the sound of burial bells.
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Never the golden city, where radiant people meet,
But the dolorous town where mourners are going about the street.
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We travel the dusty road till the light of the day is dim,
And sunset shows us spires away on the world’s rim.
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We travel from dawn to dusk, till the day is past and by,
Seeking the Holy City beyond the rim of the sky.
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Friends and loves we have none, nor wealth nor blest abode,
But the hope of the City of God at the other end of the road.
John Masefield
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