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!