On the road to Arcadie,

Past the mountains, past the sea,

Past the crossways soberly

To Arcadie, to Arcadie.

Pilgrims of a dream are we,

Knowing not if true it be,

But we press on silently

To Arcadie, to Arcadie.

Arcadie! Oh, Arcadie!

We are lost, we cannot see!

For the dust blows bitterly

On the road to Arcadie.