The Path THE PATH THAT LEADS NOWHERE THERE'S a path that leads to Nowhere In a meadow that I know, Where an inland island rises And the stream is still and slow; There it wanders under willows, And beneath the silver green Of the birches' silent shadows Where the early violets lean. Other pathways lead to Somewhere, But the one I love so well Has no end and no beginning— Just the beauty of the dell, Just the wind-flowers and the lilies Yellow-striped as adder's tongue, Seem to satisfy my pathway As it winds their scents among. T