Poems (Ford)/Dream-Life
For works with similar titles, see Dream-Life.
DREAM-LIFE.
How the human heart keeps striving,
Planning, toiling and contriving,
Grasping at the glowing visions
O'er which Fancy's pinions wave;
Whether joys or woes surround us,
Still our thoughts will stray beyond us,
For we are a race of dreamers
From the cradle to the grave.
Planning, toiling and contriving,
Grasping at the glowing visions
O'er which Fancy's pinions wave;
Whether joys or woes surround us,
Still our thoughts will stray beyond us,
For we are a race of dreamers
From the cradle to the grave.
When with buoyant step glad childhood
Gaily roams through vale and wildwood,
Scenes still brighter seem to 'wait him
Where his coming youth appears,
For the rosy glow of distance
And the force of Time's resistance
Blend, and weave bright robes of beauty
To array the future years.
Gaily roams through vale and wildwood,
Scenes still brighter seem to 'wait him
Where his coming youth appears,
For the rosy glow of distance
And the force of Time's resistance
Blend, and weave bright robes of beauty
To array the future years.
Youth arrives,—and still he glances
Onward, onward, for he fancies
That his hand will soon be potent
As the magic lamp of old;
And he builds an airy palace,
In which pleasure's glowing chalice
May be freely quaffed when manhood
Has the scroll of life unrolled.
Onward, onward, for he fancies
That his hand will soon be potent
As the magic lamp of old;
And he builds an airy palace,
In which pleasure's glowing chalice
May be freely quaffed when manhood
Has the scroll of life unrolled.
But at last youth's lordly castle
Vanishes, with serf and vassal;
To the sterner eye of manhood
Life presents a darker page;
All youth's rosy hopes have faded;
On life's journey, tired and jaded,
Still he hopefully looks forward
To the calm repose of age.
Vanishes, with serf and vassal;
To the sterner eye of manhood
Life presents a darker page;
All youth's rosy hopes have faded;
On life's journey, tired and jaded,
Still he hopefully looks forward
To the calm repose of age.
Now the snows of age descending
On his brow, foretell the ending
Of life's trials, joys and sorrows,
And in vain he seeks for rest;
To the years no more returning
He looks back with wistful yearning,
Then hope guides his vision upward
To the mansions of the blest.
On his brow, foretell the ending
Of life's trials, joys and sorrows,
And in vain he seeks for rest;
To the years no more returning
He looks back with wistful yearning,
Then hope guides his vision upward
To the mansions of the blest.
Thus in dreams we wander ever,
Living in the present never,
But with longing eye still looking
To the future or the past,
Till our heart-strings chill and shiver
As the waves of death's cold river
Put an end to all our dreaming,
And the real comes at last.
Living in the present never,
But with longing eye still looking
To the future or the past,
Till our heart-strings chill and shiver
As the waves of death's cold river
Put an end to all our dreaming,
And the real comes at last.
Were our lightest wishes granted,
All for which our hearts e'er panted,
We would still sigh after something,
Discontented with our lot;
Still we fancy it but seeming
When we are what we've been dreaming,
And unceasingly endeavor
To become what we are not.
All for which our hearts e'er panted,
We would still sigh after something,
Discontented with our lot;
Still we fancy it but seeming
When we are what we've been dreaming,
And unceasingly endeavor
To become what we are not.
Let us strive to grasp the real
While we picture the ideal,
And the while the brain is dreaming
Toil with strong, untiring hand;
Vain are all our dreams of beauty,
If we shrink from life's stern duty,—
For the thoughts that bring not action
Are but letters traced on sand.
While we picture the ideal,
And the while the brain is dreaming
Toil with strong, untiring hand;
Vain are all our dreams of beauty,
If we shrink from life's stern duty,—
For the thoughts that bring not action
Are but letters traced on sand.