The Road Leading Nowhere
A. Mary F. Robinson
1857 to 1944
The road leading nowhere
Is bright in the morn;
We troop it and foot it
By thicket and thorn.
With fewer companions
We pace it at even;
The road leading nowhere
Is pleasant and even.
But oh! there's an hour
That is fatal and still;
'Tis the halt after noon
At the top of the hill.
'Tis the look of the road
As it slips out of sight;
'Tis the flight of the day
And the dread of the night.
A. Mary F. Robinson's The Road Leading Nowhere
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