Poems (Storrie)/Two Pathways
Two Pathways.
There is always a possible pathway, Until our hair turns gray, By which the dreams of our golden youth May really come some day, And there's always room for a fairy foot To flutter our own beside, And wish-horses, supple and strong enough To give our hopes a ride. There is always a possible pathway Until our hair is gray, By which our tardy heart's desire Shall sometime find its way. There is always a certain pathway By which, when our hair is gray, We may slip along into silence, And never miss the way. And the dreams we dreamed, and the fame we missed, And the love that we never won, May be gathered there, to welcome us, When at last the journey's done.