1845
THE UNKNOWN WAY
by William Cullen Bryant
Electronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1996, World Library(R)
THE UNKNOWN WAY
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A burning sky is o'er me,
The sands beneath me glow,
As onward, onward, wearily,
In the sultry morn I go.
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From the dusty path there opens,
Eastward, an unknown way;
Above its windings, pleasantly,
The woodland branches play.
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A silvery brook comes stealing
From the shadow of its trees,
Where slender herbs of the forest stoop
Before the entering breeze.
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Along those pleasant windings
I would my journey lay,
Where the shade is cool and the dew of night
Is not yet dried away.
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Path of the flowery woodland!
Oh whither dost thou lead,
Wandering by grassy orchard-grounds,
Or by the open mead?
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Goest thou by nestling cottage?
Goest thou by stately hall,
Where the broad elm droops, a leafy dome,
And woodbines flaunt on the wall?
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By steeps where children gather
Flowers of the yet fresh year?
By lonely walks where lovers stray
Till the tender stars appear?
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Or haply dost thou linger
On barren plains and bare,
Or clamber the bald mountain-side
Into the thinner air?-
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Where they who journey upward.
Walk in a weary track,
And oft upon the shady vale
With longing eyes look back?
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I hear a solemn murmur
And, listening to the sound,
I know the voice of the mighty Sea,
Beating his pebbly bound.
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Dost thou, oh path of the woodland!
End where those waters roar,
Like human life, on a trackless beach,
With a boundless Sea before?
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THE END
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