Which way shall I take?
Shouts a voice in the night,
I’m a pil­grim awear­ied,
And spent is my light;
And I seek for a pa­lace,
That rests on the hill,
But be­tween us, a stream
Lieth sull­en and chill.

Refrain

Near, near thee, my son,
Is the old way­side cross,
Like a gray fri­ar cowled,
In li­chens and moss;
And its cross­beam will point
To the bright gold­en span,
That bridg­es the wa­ters
So safe­ly for man;
That bridg­es the wa­ters
So safe­ly for man.

Which way shall I take
For the bright gold­en span
That bridg­es the wa­ters
So safe­ly for man?
To the right? To the left?
Ah, me! if I knew—
The night is so dark,
And the pass­ers so few.

Refrain

See the lights from the pa­lace
In sil­ve­ry lines,
How they pen­cil the hedg­es
And fruit lad­en vines—
My for­tune! my all!
For one tan­gled gleam
That sifts thro’ the lil­ies,
And wastes on the stream.

Refrain