Whereby to find the slopes of asphodel—

Ah, then to hear Apollo charm his lyre

And see Diana ’neath the sickle moon.

We Once Built a House o’ Dreams

We once built a house o’ dreams

At the break o’ day

Made from out the first gold beams

On the sward astray.

Little did we think or care

’Twas not safe nor strong;

We were very happy there

And the day was long.

Now we leave our house o’ dreams,

Why, we do not know;

Only this—so strange it seems

And so hard to go!

A Song of the Way

Give me the road, the great broad road,

That wanders over the hill;

Give me a heart without a care

 Prev. P 16/37 next