A Mystery

He'd wandered to the village Many years before; And they called him "Old Man Tatters," 'Cause of the clothes he wore.

He asked no man for favors, Nor a boon of fate implore; But to sell his corn and cabbage, As he went from door to door.

Some said he'd been a soldier, And had fought throughout the war, Some said he'd been a rustic, And was versed in ancient lore.

But in time he left the village, Along the river shore; No one was ever found who knew Just what he'd been before.

For he never told his story, To none did his soul outpour, As to what, and why, and when, And who, and where he'd been before.