Where Cross-Roads Part

Glad roads of Spring—O lanes of laughing May As fleeting as the shadow-clouds at play With sunbeams rife upon the grassy green; O golden lanes—through roads that lie between Amid what darkened sweep lost I the way?

Or was't the stripling Youth, whose roundelay Awoke the echoes of the throbbing day And changed to gladness all the world's dull mien, Glad roads of Spring?

Apart I stand, distraught with lone dismay, No more Youth's gladsome biddings to obey, No more with him Love's strewings lost to glean; The hills of years now ever intervene, And bid me say good-bye to you for aye, Glad roads of Spring?