The Path That Leads Nowhere

By

Corinne Roosevelt Robinson

THERE'S a path that leads to Nowhere

        In a meadow that I know,

    Where an inland island rises

        And the stream is still and slow;

    There it wanders under willows,

        And beneath the silver green

    Of the birches' silent shadows

        Where the early violets lean.

    Other pathways lead to Somewhere,

        But the one I love so well

    Has no end and no beginning—

        Just the beauty of the dell,

    Just the wind-flowers and the lilies

        Yellow-striped as adder's tongue,

    Seem to satisfy my pathway

        As it winds their scents among.

    There I go to meet the Springtime,

        When the meadow is aglow,

    Marigolds amid the marshes,—

        And the stream is still and slow.

    There I find my fair oasis,

        And with care-free feet I tread

    For the pathway leads to Nowhere,

        And the blue is overhead!

    All the ways that lead to Somewhere

Echo with the hurrying feet

    Of the Struggling and the Striving,

        But the way I find so sweet

    Bids me dream and bids me linger,

        Joy and Beauty are its goal,—

    On the path that leads to Nowhere

        I have sometimes found my soul!

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