 | A Dream |  |
110
YET TO LIVE AND LEARN.
Though lofty themes within me burn,
I cannot reach their height.
Though page and page I tear, I turn,
These themes I cannot write.
I cannot reach their height.
Though page and page I tear, I turn,
These themes I cannot write.
Soon in my brain a ray of hope
Lights up my soul to lore;
I have it then, oh, dear, sweet hope,
It thrills me more and more.
Lights up my soul to lore;
I have it then, oh, dear, sweet hope,
It thrills me more and more.
My pen I clutch in eager grasp,
And bend to write this theme,
With blot—it falls from out my clasp—
'Twas but a deep soul dream.
And bend to write this theme,
With blot—it falls from out my clasp—
'Twas but a deep soul dream.
Of dreams that I may hope to sing,
Yet dreams I can't impart,
I try, I try, they only bring
An aching to my heart.
Yet dreams I can't impart,
I try, I try, they only bring
An aching to my heart.
Of humble themes I've yet to dream;
I've yet to live and learn;
I've yet to hail hope's brighter gleam,
And then to them may turn;
I've yet to live and learn;
I've yet to hail hope's brighter gleam,
And then to them may turn;
| A Dream | |