Lady's Slipper

Who passed this way and left this trace Of beauty in so wild a place,

To stir our souls with marvelling At so incredible a thing?

Who sent this living miracle In the deep Northern woods to dwell,

Where only hermit thrushes come And the shy brown bear makes his home?

Whence was the inspiration caught? Whose was the sudden happy thought?

Or whose the impulse thus to bless The rough untrodden wilderness?

Deep in our hearts glad tidings say, Beauty herself came by this way,

And with a wisdom older far Than alphabet or calendar,

Cast off her sandal as she sped Lest we should miss the way she fled.

And so forever we pursue The shadowy trail of Beauty's shoe,

And for her sake must leave behind Riches and rest and peace of mind,

To follow on that shining trace, With beating heart and breathless pace.

By darkling wood and haunted stream, Still lured by the enchanting gleam,

Wherever the long way may lead, To keep the trail is all our need.

On simple fare, in poor attire, Torn and waylaid by flint and briar,

With the lone dawn upon the height Or the great desert stars by night,

Through burning sun and blinding snow Untiring and content we go,

If only so we may behold Dear Beauty's self ere we are old.