The Poetry Corner

I'd a Dream.

By John Hartley

I'd a dream last night of my boyhood's days, And the scenes where my youth was spent; And I roamed the old woods where the squirrel plays, Full of frolicsome merriment. And I walked by the brook, and its silvery tone, Seemed to soothe me again as of yore; And I stood by the cottage with moss overgrown And the woodbine that trailed round the door. No change could I see in the garden plot, The flowers bloomed brightly around, And one little bed of forget-me-not In its own little corner I found. The sky had a home-look, the breeze seemed to sigh, In the strain I remembered so well, And the little brown sparrows looked cunning and shy, As though anxious some story to tell. But as quietness reigned and a loneliness fell, O'er the place that had once been so gay; Its sunlight had saddened since I bade farewell, And left it for lands far away. The door stood ajar and I sought for a face, Of the dear ones I longed so to see; But others I knew not were now in the place, And their presence was painful to me. A pang of remorse seemed to shoot through my heart, As I left with a sorrowing tread, From all the familiar objects to part; For I knew that the loved ones were dead. The home once my own, now knows me no more, The treasures that bound me all gone, And I woke with cheeks tear-stained, and heart sadly sore, To find that a home I had none.