The Lancaster Ledger

Select Poetry.

From the Rutherford Democrat.

THE SWEETEST DREAM.

"The sweetest dream that e'er was dreamt,
Was dream'd by me last night ;
'Twas full of blooming beauty, love,
And rapturous delight.
I dreamed, beneath this silver moon,
Beside a rippling stream,
We sat us down together, love,--
Would it were more than dream!
Your little hand was in my own,
And on my breast, your head,
Your blue eyes looking fondly up,--
While these sweet words you said
"Full many a weary day I've longed
For such a time as this,
To rest upon thy bosom, love,
And taste one loving kiss,--
"Full many an hour I often thought
My little heart would break
Beneath the weight upon it laid---
The love it dared not speak.
"But now, beneath the silv'ry moon,
Beside this rippling stream,
To have thee near, I realize,
My fondest, sweetest dream."
Then fondly to my bosom, love,
I folded thy loved form,
And swore to keep thee shelter'd there
From every raging storm.
Your coral lips were pressed to mine,
When music from the skies
Came floating beautifully down,
In softest harmonies,
A light, above the moon's soft beam,
Broke on us by the stream,
And white wing'd angels now became
A witness to the scene.
It took your little hand in his,
Then placed it in mine own,
And softly said, "whom God hath joined
Are now and ever one."
The angel vanish'd from our sight,
Up to his God-lit home,
While we sat looking to the skies,-
The azure, star-lit dome.
I then awoke, my pretty bride,
And found it all a dream;
The angel had not married us
Beside the rippling stream.
But was it not a beauteous dream
Which, love, I dreamed last night?
So full of bliss and happiness
And rapturous delight