Word: vagabonder
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...there is too the Vagabond. There is little enough for him to do. No lectures, few concerts; only the library, vast, dust encrusted, darkest Widener. It is a dreary period for him. But what can he do, what can anyone do? The Vagabond will take refuge in poetry "for God he knows and what must be, must be." He like the others must hitch up his belt, try not to think too much of the Vincent Club, and "say neither it is good, nor it is bad; but only it is here...
...Vagabond well remembers his first uplifting introduction to old Horatio. It was "Bound to Rise" and it was behind a barn near a door which was used by the farm hands when they made up the cows' beds fresh every morning. As he read the pages and heard stout Alger speak out loud and bold, the Vagabond truly felt like some watcher of the skies. Here was a man-man, did he say?-a youth of sixteen years is more like-who went to the city. On his very first day there, this boy was walking on an icy sidewalk...
Dreamer and Poet that the Vagabond is, he has always turned to music for refreshment. In the little understood mysteries of fugue and counterpoint he finds a world where his emotions are free to practice every caprice. Music can turn him about and twist his spirit into a thousand different forms. The proud, moving music of the medieval church carries him closer to the cathedral tradition, to the mysterious power of priest and Virgin, than anything else he knows. Far as the Universal Church may be removed from the intellectual scepticism and the emotional sterility of Cambridge, nevertheless, the Vagabond...
...Vagabond all life is one great Reading Period in which to indulge his wayward fancies. Untrammeled by the ordinary necessities which hamper men he can lead the pleasant life of the dilettante. For celibacy and his extra-curricular affiliation with the University render him exempt from the cares which burden his fellows...
Today, all the Vagabond does is to wonder. Yet from his vantage point of perpetual youth he can think back into the generations of men who never stopped to look inside themselves, to know why things happened as they did. When the country was first young, when men fought with nature for his life and his home there was no time for this analysis, which paralyses the will. Later when nature was harnessed to the iron wheels of industry there was still no time for such thoughtful folly, because one man was busy fighting another for the power which...