The Cambria Freeman

[ORIGINAL.]

"A DAY DREAM"

The snow is falling thick and fast

On everything outside:

The wind that passes by the door

Is like a sweeping tide.

'Tis very pleasant here to sit,

Warm'd by the fire's bright gleam,

To watch the raging storm outside,

Or here to sit and dream—

To dream of things that are no more—

Of brothers, sisters dear—

Imagining you are home again,

With all your kindred near;

To dream of these and wish yourself

Again to be a child:

Their life, so full of joy, it seems

So innocent and mild;

And wish alway to be a child.

In the old, dear home to live,

And for this happy, happy life,

Our mature sorrows give.

Let other visions cross your eye—

Amid the storm and winter's wind

Look in the crowded street—

What does your vision meet?

You see amidst the snow and ice

A ragged, dirty child;

Its little voice can scarce be heard

Above the storm so wild.

Now, listen!—hear what it does say

To him to whom it speaks;

Ah! little one, thy tale is sad—

"'Tis "bread and clothes" it seeks!

It says its parents both are dead,

And that it has no home;

Through the streets, in wet and cold,

For food it has to roam.

And now, while in our daily life

Let us not wish, while dreaming here,

Such lessons we can see,

A child again to be

For discontent may well

Be call'd by man a curse:

Whatever's been, our life thus far,

"It might have been" far worse.