THE ROAD is left that once was trod
By man and heavy-laden beast;
And new ways opened, iron-shod,
That bind the land from west to east.
I asked of Him who all things knows
Why none who lived now passed that way:
Where rose the dust the grass now grows?
A still, low voice was heard to say,
Thou knowest not why I change the course
Of him who travels: learn to go,
Obey the Spirits gentle force,
Nor ask thou where the stream may flow.
Man shall not walk in his own ways,
For he is blind and cannot see;
But let him trust, and lengthened days
Shall lead his feet to heaven and Me.
Then shall the grass the path grow oer,
That his own wilfulness has trod;
And man nor beast shall pass it more,
But he shall walk with Me, his God.
