Down the long road we went,
Friends and lovers, we two.
Incredibly content,
Tingling somehow with the commonplace view;
Amazed at the heaven's most casual blue.
Sniffing the air with astonishment,
As though for the first time we knew
The sharp smell of the pine-woods blent
With the vague wild rose's scent.

Each roadside flower that ran along with us
Suddenly seemed a thing miraculous;
Translating all its magic into song.
Even their names were music; faint and strong
They flashed godspeed and called from where they grew: —
The feathery clusters of the Meadow-Rue;

Wood Lilies dancing by on feathery feet;
The swaying spires of the Meadow-Sweet.
Even the shy Sheep-Laurel looked around
To stare with deep pink eyes; while, from the ground,
Soft as the thing from which it took its name,
The Infant's Breath with double sweetness came.
And over all the mingled richness lay
The hot, sweet fragrance of the drying hay. . .

The city slipped away;
Its harshness melted as the twilight grew;
Its power was spent.
Something was walking with us, something new;
It sang the world into our hearts and sent
Our spirits dancing to where beauty lay
Over the heavens like a testament.
There was one star — and a great wash of blue. . .

Down the long road we went,
Friends and lovers, we two.