O let me dream the dreams of long ago
And dreaming pass into the dreamless sleep--
Beyond the voices of the autumn winds,
Beyond the patter of the dreary rain,
Beyond compassion and all vain regret
Beyond all waking and all weariness:
O let me dream the dreams of long ago.
THE PIONEER
[MINNESOTA--1860-1875]
When Mollie and I were married from the dear old cottage-home,
In the vale between the hills of fir and pine,
I parted with a sigh in a stranger-land to roam,
And to seek a western home for me and mine.
By a grove-encircled lake in the wild and prairied West,
As the sun was sinking down one summer day,
I laid my knapsack down and my weary limbs to rest,
And resolved to build a cottage-home and stay.
I staked and marked my "corners," and I "filed" upon my claim,
And I built a cottage-home of "logs and shakes;"
And then I wrote a letter, and Mollie and baby came
Out to bless me and to bake my johnny-cakes.
When Mollie saw my "cottage" and the way that I had "bached",
She smiled, but I could see that she was "blue;"
Then she found my "Sunday-clothes" all soiled and torn and patched,
And she hid her face and shed a tear or two.
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