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!