The Road Back


Here I stand upon a hill,

The forest dark and brown.

I see below the winding road

That carries through the town.

Will I return to gaze anew

On happy days spent there?

And know the time to be well spent

Without a tearful care?

Or will the journey take me far,

To visit places strange.

Till I no more remember you,

Or hasten to your name?

They will not come; those days be naught,

When you be gone from mind.

I'll travel more and less the same

Fulfilling you in kind.

And when the road shall bring me back

To tarry in your heart,

The bells will peal their joyful tone

And nevermore we'll part.


Nancy Tate