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!