Indiana State Sentinel

DREAMS OF THE PAST.

BY MISS J. T. LOMAX.

They are with me, when the twilight dew is bending
The rose leaf, with its drops of quivering light,
And summer birds their sweetest songs are blending
In one wild gush of welcoming to Night.

When, where the clouded sunset hath been gleaming,
The regal day hath begun to wane
And the pale starlight sets the young heart dreaming,
And calls old fancies into life again.

Then, from gone times, a spirit voice comes thrilling,
And other forms rise upon my view,
Fair friends, once more my mental path are filling,
With dreams of all Time never can renew.

Old friends touching all, and that saddened
Look down on me with their earnest eyes;
And faces, whose young mirth hath perished,
Are whispering with me from life's early skies.

Few are the years, backward since recalled;
Few, and with little of dark guilt to shade
But still the home's heart most cares for—not falleth—
Tears asunder and the shadows by its side.

He who, though blest his destiny may seem,
But has some mournful memory to recall
A hope unrealized—vanished dream.
A shade of disappointment over all.

The world hath many troubles for our bearing
But the meeting of young grief yet will last,
Yet in the future where our steps are turning,
We hear them most those echoes from the past.

And thou, oh thou in whose sad eyes there burneth
The deathless light of Love's thought-speaking gaze,
Say, is it when Night, with all its stars returneth,
It brings thee back a voice from other days.