chance as Nature feels when a blossomed bough is broken.

T.B. ALDRICH.

The Way to Arcady.[12]

_Oh, what's the way to Arcady,_
_To Arcady, to Arcady;_
_Oh, what's the way to Arcady,_
_Where all the leaves are merry?_

Oh, what's the way to Arcady?
The spring is rustling in the tree--
The tree the wind is blowing through--
It sets the blossoms flickering white.
I knew not skies could burn so blue
Nor any breezes blow so light.
They blow an old-time way for me,
Across the world to Arcady.

Oh, what's the way to Arcady?
Sir Poet, with the rusty coat,
Quit mocking of the song-bird's note.
How have you heart for any tune,
You with the wayworn russet shoon?
Your scrip, a-swinging by your side,
Gapes with a gaunt mouth hungry-wide.
I'll brim it well with pieces red,
If you will tell the way to tread.

_Oh, I am bound for Arcady,_
_And if you but keep pace with me_
_You tread the way to Arcady._

And where away lies Arcady,
And how long yet may the journey be?

_Ah, that_ (quoth he) _I do not know--_
_Across the clover and the snow--_
_Across the frost, across the flowers--_
_Through summer seconds and winter hours._
_I've trod the way my whole life long,_
_And know not now where it may be;_
_My guide is but the stir to song._
_That tells me I can not go wrong,_
_Or clear or dark the pathway be_
_Upon the road to Arcady._

But how shall I do who cannot sing?
I was wont to sing, once on a time--
There is never an echo now to ring
Remembrance back to the trick of rhyme.

_'Tis strange you cannot sing_ (quoth he),
_The folk all sing in Arcady._

But how may he find Arcady
Who hath not youth nor melody?

_What, know you not, old man_ (quoth he)--
_Your hair is white, your face is wise--_
_That Love must kiss that Mortal's eyes_
_Who hopes to see fair Arcady?_
_No gold can buy you entrance there;_
_But beggared Love may go all bare--_
_No wisdom won with weariness;_
_But Love goes in with Folly's dress--_
_No fame that wit could ever win;_
_But only Love may lead Love in_
_To Arcady, to Arcady._

Ah, woe is me, through all my days
Wisdom and wealth I both have got,
And fame and name, and great men's praise;
But Love, ah, Love! I have it not.

There was a time, when life was new--
But far away, and half forgot--
I only know her eyes