The Blazed Trail

Just when the path is lost to me, Bewildered wanderer in the maze, Upon some unexpected tree I spy the Woodman’s blaze;

A mystic rune of sight or sound, A message quick from sense to soul, That lifts the spirit from the ground And speeds it to the goal.

A wind-flower nodding by an oak Has given assurance from afar; Once in the dark a fragrance spoke, And once it was a star.

The silver fluting of a thrush; The bursting of a sunken flame; A sigh of wind, a sudden hush— Out of the depths I came.

A burning challenge to despair Flashed from an idly-open book; A small dumb creature’s silent prayer, A friend’s revealing look;

And all the doubtful horrors fade, The weary heart leaps up again. Through tangled thickets in the shade, The Trail shows broad and plain.