Classic Poem

I HIED me off to Arcady—
The month it was the month of May,
And all along the pleasant way
The morning birds were mad with glee,
And all the flowers sprang up to see,
As I went on to Arcady.

But slow I fared to Arcady—
The way was long, the winding way—
Sometimes I watched the children play,
And then I laid me down to see
The great white clouds sail over me—
I thought they sailed to Arcady.

Then by me sped to Arcady
Two lovers, each on palfrey gray,
And blithe with love, and blithe with May,
And they were rich, and held in fee
The whole round world: and Youth is he
Who knows the path to Arcady.

I followed on to Arcady—
But I was all alone that day,
And shadows stole along the way,
And somehow I had lost the key
That makes an errant mortal free
Of the dear fields of Arcady.

But still I fared toward Arcady,
Until I slept at set of day,
And in my dreams I found the way;
And all the Fates were kind to me;
So that I woke beneath a tree
In the dear land of Arcady.

What did I find in Arcady?—
Ah, that I never must betray:
I learned the secrets of the May;
And why the winds are fresh and free,
And all the birds are mad with glee
That soar and sing in Arcady.

I dwell no more in Arcady:—
But when the sky is blue with May,
And flowers spring up along the way,
And birds are blithe, and winds are free,
I know what message is for me,—
For I have been in Arcady.