A Dream Of Life.

When I was young long, long ago     I dreamed myself among the flowers;     And fancy drew the picture so,     They seemed like Fairies in their bowers.     The rose was still a rose, you know      But yet a maid. What could I do?     You surely would not have me go,      When rosy maidens seem to woo?     My heart was gay, and 'mid the throng      I sported for an hour or two;     We danced the flowery paths along,      And did as youthful lovers do.     But sports must cease, and so I dreamed      To part with these, my fairy flowers     But oh, how very hard it seemed      To say good-by 'mid such sweet bowers!     And one fair Maid of modest air      Gazed on me with her eye of blue;     I saw the tear-drop gathering there      How could I say to her, Adieu!     I fondly gave my hand and heart,      And we were wed. Bright hour of youth!     How little did I think to part      With my sweet bride, whose name was Truth!     But time passed on, and Truth grew gray,      And chided, though with gentlest art:     I loved her, though I went astray,      And almost broke her faithful heart.     And then I left her, and in tears      These could not move my hardened breast!     I wandered, and for weary years      I sought for bliss, but found no rest.     I sought yet ever sought in vain      To find the peace, the joy of youth:     At last, I turned me back again,      And found them with my faithful Truth.