The Wanderlust Has Got Me... By The

The Lonely Sunsets Flare Forlorn Down Valleys Dreadly Desolate; The Lonely Mountains Soar In Scorn As Still As Death, As Stern As Fate.

The Only Society I Like Is Rough And Tough, And The Tougher The Better. There's Where You Get Down To Bedrock And Meet Human People.

Just Draw On Your Grit; It's So Easy To Quit - It's The Keeping Your Chin Up That's Hard.

And Each Forgets, As He Strips And Runs With A Brilliant, Fitful Pace, It's The Steady, Quiet, Plodding Ones Who Win In The Lifelong Race. And Each Forgets That His Youth Has Fled, Forgets That His Prime Is Past, Till He Stands One Day, With A Hope That's Dead, In The Glare Of The Truth At Last.

His Life, Though None Too Long, Was Never Dull: Of Woman, Wine And Song Bill Had His Full.