Days stretch before me without end.
Though paths diverge in loping wend,
Through plains of gold and wooded glen
You’ll know just where to find me.

Above the stately oaken branches,
Past the mire of broken chances,
Where whispered prayers still nightly dance,
Is where the road will lead.

But follow not this trail I lay,
For solace sought lays not this way.
Your time will come, but not this day,
And not this easily.

Our parting will but moments seem
When you awaken in the dream.
Though years may pass, Love will redeem
What your heart now fails to see.