THE “BLIND” ROAD, NANTUCKET

IF you would find Peace, and a lightened load, And wells of delicate, salt, sweet-fern air, And tranquil lines around you every where, Follow the “blind” Rut Road. It leads to liberties of yellow gorse, To secret heather and to banks of bay; It winds along the ocean, and its course Is wet with wild sea-spray. It leads along the swamps, where honey-ball Hangs scented globes, where clethra scatters sweet, By holly hedge, where pheasants thread the tall Indigo plant, or flying sea-gulls meet. It leads away from every fret and jar, From everything that hurts and stings and tries; Through green dwarf-pines, and hills of cinnebar, Marshaling grasses up to windswept skies. If you would find Rest and forgetfulness and all things new, Take the Rut Road, and it will bring to you All dear forgotten things, things you see through, But that this road holds sacred, being “blind.”