WHITHER?

Whither this Highway, Child?

“To the Field of Flowers,—to the Flowers wild.”

Whither this Highway, Youth?

“Through the Fields of Love to the home of Ruth.”

Whither this Highway, Man?

“Through the realms of Fame into Class and Clan.”

Whither this Highway, Sire?

“To the silent Tomb with its marble spire!”

Whither, oh whither, Tomb?—

But voiceless it points to the azure dome.