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!