Save for the pewee’s plaintive cry,
Along this way all sound doth cease.
We christened it, the breeze and I,
“The little path to peace.”
The dusty highway far behind,
The vine-clad cottage as our goal,
There lies what many strive to find—
Peace for the heart and soul.
A mother’s voice drifts down the stair,
Crooning a simple lullaby.
See Mistress Puss and Fido there,
In perfect amity;
And over all the scent of flowers,
And over all the spell of home,
Though simple, for the asking ours,
Enthralling all who come.
O comrade with the restless eyes,
And greater cares than I can name,
With weariness you ill disguise,
Plodding the road to fame—
Pause—where the trees lap overhead,
Close the wee gate, nor seek release.
And hand in hand we’ll lightly tread
The little path to peace!
[Illustration: THE CAPTAIN, DAVY, AND GENERAL KUROPATKIN