Hidden Paths

You see a house of weathered stone, A pillared gate, a courtyard wide, And ancient trees that almost hide The garden wild and overgrown; You see the sheltering screen of pines Beyond the farmyard and the fold, And upland cornfields waving gold Against the blue horizon lines; But we of every field and wall And room are now so much a part, We seem to touch a living heart And rather feel than see it all.

You pass the broken arch that spanned The garden walk,--you note the weeds, But miss our secret path that leads To hidden nooks of wonderland; And, where the faded rooms you mark, You know not of the ancient spell That o’er them in the firelight fell When all the world outside was dark.

Elsewhere is your enchanted ground, Your secret path, your treasure store; And those who sojourned here before Saw marvels we have never found. For Earth is full of hidden ways More wondrous than the ways it shows, And treasures that outnumber those For which men labour all their days.