Two dreams came down to earth one night
From the realm of mist and dew;
One was a dream of the old, old days;
And one was a dream of the new.
One was a dream of a shady land
That led to the pickerel pond,
Where the willows and rushes bowed themselves
To the brown old hills beyond.
And the people that peopled the old time dream
Were pleasant and fair to see,
And the dreamer he walked with them again
As often of old walked he.
Oh, cool was the wind in the shady lane
That tangled his curley hair!
Oh sweet was the music the robins made
To the springtime everywhere!
Was it the dew the dream had brought
From yonder midnight skies,
Or was it tears from the dear, dead years
That lay in the dreamer’s eyes?
The other dream ran fast and free,
As the moon benignly shed
Her golden grace on the smiling face
In the little trundle-bed.
For ’twas a dream of times to come
Of the glorious noon of day
Of the summer that follows the careless spring