And a mile may open the way we looked for

A turn may lead to the longed-for tryst.

{46}

THE ROAD INTO THE WORLD

We travelled by an old and beaten road,

But everything we saw was strange and new:

Each ripple of the mountain stream that flowed

Beside us, every drop of sunlit dew

That filled the flowers that on the wayside grew,

The laughter of the south-west wind at play

Along its own untrodden path of blue,

All made the earth forget its yesterday,

And with their own youth touched that old and beaten way.{47}

{47}

They told us that our road would lead at last

Into the world,—not that which once was spread

Before our childhood’s dream, unknown and vast,

But one which man had fashioned in its stead.

This world lay now before us, and we sped

To drink its wonders, counting not the cost.

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