The Forest Path

Oh, the charm of idle dreaming Where the dappled shadows dance, All the leafy aisles are teeming With the lure of old romance! Down into the forest dipping, Deep and deeper as we go, One might fancy dryads slipping Where the white-stemmed birches grow. Lurking gnome and freakish fairy In the fern may peep and hide . . . Sure their whispers low and airy Ring us in on every side! Saw you where the pines are rocking Nymph's white shoulder as she ran? Lo, that music faint and mocking, Is it not a pipe of Pan? Hear you that elusive laughter Of the hidden waterfall? Nay, a satyr speeding after Ivy-crowned bacchanal. Far and farther as we wander Sweeter shall our roaming be, Come, for dim and winsome yonder Lies the path to Arcady!