Dreaming of kindlier, warmer suns,
Dreaming of happier hours,
We dwell in a future that never sheds
O'er our heads its living flowers;
In fancy we gather with eager glee
What fate dooms to perish in infancy.
The youth is dreaming of laurels won
On the battle-field of life,
He sees the hour of triumph near,
Nor recks of the years of strife;
Yet his flashing eye shall be sunk and dim
Ere the victor's wreath may be wove for him.
The maiden dreameth the dearest dream
The human heart may treasure,
Of a sun-lit home where faith and love
Flow forth in ceaseless measure;
Let her dream, — nor whisper the future brings
No rainbow hues on its darkening wings.
Let them dream — they will rouse at duty's call,
Eager for nobler doing,
Will catch the light on her steel-crowned helm,
And turn from fancy's wooing,
And visions of love and of fame will die
As the sunset gleam from the wintry sky.
And yet, — though the dreams of earth be fair,
God grant that a dreamless sleep
May seal the eyes that have learned too well
O'er waking thoughts to weep;
Till a morn shall break in their dazzled sight,
Crowning earth's dreams with a truer light.