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!