The wisdom of life we are fain to know;
Does it ever pay for the pain of finding?
So, far away from the dissonant town,
Out in the marvellous June-time weather,
We climb the hills to their blossoming crown,
And rest and gather our flowers together.
Lo! we gather our flowers to-day,
We are like thee, O restless river—
We loiter for play on our endless way—
While life, our life, rolls on forever.