 | New Ballads |  |
41
A SONG OF THE ROAD
Among the hills he woke;
A star, low-hung and late,
Dwindled as the morning broke
The sable-silvered state
Wherein night braves the ruddy stroke
That daily seals her fate.
A star, low-hung and late,
Dwindled as the morning broke
The sable-silvered state
Wherein night braves the ruddy stroke
That daily seals her fate.
He went by bank and brae
Where fern and heather spread;
Azure bells beset the way,
And blossoms gold and red;
Below, the burn sang all the day;
The larks sang overhead.
Where fern and heather spread;
Azure bells beset the way,
And blossoms gold and red;
Below, the burn sang all the day;
The larks sang overhead.
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He left the hills and came
Among the woods and dells;
Golden helmets flashed like flame;
The witches wove their spells;
In moss-green silk the elfin dame
Rode by with silver bells.
Among the woods and dells;
Golden helmets flashed like flame;
The witches wove their spells;
In moss-green silk the elfin dame
Rode by with silver bells.
He came where four roads met;
He chose a narrow one;
Spiny thorns the way beset;
But at the end there shone
The bright reward that pilgrims get,
And Heaven's unsetting sun.
He chose a narrow one;
Spiny thorns the way beset;
But at the end there shone
The bright reward that pilgrims get,
And Heaven's unsetting sun.
He went with heavy mind,
For sharp the thorns did sting.
Far and fitfully behind
He heard sweet laughter ring—
Delighted voices on the wind,
And freshness of the spring.
For sharp the thorns did sting.
Far and fitfully behind
He heard sweet laughter ring—
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And freshness of the spring.
He paused in sore dismay,
And, pondering right and wrong,
Turned and left the narrow way
To join the pleasant throng,
That wandered happily astray
The primrose path along.
And, pondering right and wrong,
Turned and left the narrow way
To join the pleasant throng,
That wandered happily astray
The primrose path along.
Alas! he fled once more;
For at the end a cloud,
Streaked with flame, and stained with gore,
And torn with curses loud,
O'erhung a melancholy shore
And veiled a hopeless crowd.
For at the end a cloud,
Streaked with flame, and stained with gore,
And torn with curses loud,
O'erhung a melancholy shore
And veiled a hopeless crowd.
He followed then the road
Wherein at first he hied;
Soon he came where men abode
And loved, and wrought, and died;
And straight the Broad and Narrow ways,
Heaven fair and Hell obscene,
For ever vanished out of space,
Spectres that ne'er had been.
Wherein at first he hied;
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And loved, and wrought, and died;
And straight the Broad and Narrow ways,
Heaven fair and Hell obscene,
For ever vanished out of space,
Spectres that ne'er had been.
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