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 Had no end and no beginning-- Just the beauty of the dell, Just the windflowers and the lilies, Yellow striped as adder's tongue Seem to satisfy my pathway As it winds their sweets among. There I go to meet the Spring-time, 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! CORINNE ROOSEVELT ROBINSON LOVERS AND ROSES THE MESSAGE _So fair the world about me lies, So pure is heaven above, Ere so much beauty dies I would give a gift to my love; Now, ere the long day close, That has been so full of bliss, I will send to my love the rose, In its leaves I will shut a kiss; A rose in the night to perish, A kiss through life to cherish; Now, ere the night-wind blows, I will send unto her the rose._ GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY "WHERE LOVE IS LIFE" Where love is life The roses blow, Though winds be rude And cold the snow, The roses climb Serenely slow, They nod in rhyme We know--we know Where love is life The roses blow. Where life is love The roses blow, Though care be quick And sorrows grow, Their roots are twined With rose-roots so That rosebuds find A way to show Where life is love The roses blow. DUNCAN CAMPBELL SCOTT THE TIME OF ROSES Love, it is the time of roses! In bright fields and garden-closes How they burgeon and unfold! How they sweep o'er tombs and towers In voluptuous crimson showers And untrammelled tides of gold! How they lure wild bees to capture All the rich mellifluous rapture Of their magical perfume, And to passing winds surrender And their frail and dazzling splendor Rivalling your turban-plume! How they cleave the air adorning The high rivers of the morning In a blithe, bejewelled fleet! How they deck the moonlit grasses In thick rainbow tinted masses Like a fair queen's bridal sheet!