The Old Road to Paradise/The Wood-Path

by Margaret Widdemer

THE WOOD-PATH

The little wood-path wandered  Green and brown and gay Up a hill and down a hill,  Through a dew-wet way.

It slipped beneath the pine-trees  Where the winds blew sweet, Past goldenrod and feverfew  And fields of whispering wheat;

So far and wide it wandered,  So many a dusk-sweet way, I thought the little wood-path  Was guiding me astray—

But oh, the little wood-path  It knew, it was wise, It led me to your waiting arms,  To your lips, your eyes!