ARCADIE. I
Reading edition
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.