The Tree-Top Road
Reading edition
Life’s sweetest joys are hidden In unsubstantial things; An April rain, a fragrance, A vision of blue wings: And what are memory and hope But dreams? And yet the bread On which these little lives of ours Are fed and comforted! Without imagination The soul becomes a clod, Missing the trail of beauty, Losing the way to God. And I have built a templed-stair Out of a lilac bloom And climbed to heaven with purple pomp And censers of perfume! I have no feud with Labor, But at the Gates of June I fling away my dusty pack And join in Youth’s glad tune. And just forgetting for a while That I am worn and gray, Go sailing off with Peter Pan Along the Tree-top Way!
May Riley Smith