The Evansville daily journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ia. [i.e. Ind.]) 1848-1862, 1859-07-30
A Drea m.

The summer air was soft the other day
And heavy laden with rich perfume,
Distilled from roses, yiolets, and the spray
or many an odorous herb; q mellow bloom
Tinted the earth, sky, tight, and shady gloom.
The evening clouds foated ON lazily--
The birds poised on their wings as though their
doom
Was ne'er again to alight. The butterfly
Forgot his gold and russet pinions TO ply.
Wearied, lay me down upon bed
Shook by Natures hand, while Flors's care
Threw a rich mantle over IL, and spread
Upon my couch, bright, beautiful, and fair
A host of buttercups and mosses rare;
Aud not content with these, she'd decked the
place
With blue-bells, passion flowers ir plenty there;
Ceraniums, tulips-liles full of grace,
That look'd as tranquil sleeping Houri's face.
Sensation left me like the day leaves night,
Receding imperceptibly; my soul
Quaffed the Lethean stream with deep delight;
And generally, things OF earth took flight.
But In their stead, when had slept awhile,
Visions ethereal appeared in sight
OF angels weeping, DER whose lips no smile
Seemd ever to have passd their sadness to beguile
asked cluster near me why they wept,
Why those pure checks were darken'd with a stain
1 thought was ours alone, which oftimes kept
Our human hearts from breaking-but that train,
What cause had they TO weep? ask'd again.
BH still no answer came from either one,
And still the bright drops fell like spring-ti
rain,
With rainbow hues they glistened in the sun,
And sprinkling all the place with liquid diamonds
shone.
At last a few drops fell upon my eyes,
And then a change pass'd quickly DER the scene,
The host had vanished and in mute surprise
l saw the flowers transformed, and what had been
blooming garden, now no more was seen;
But metaphorphosed into human kind,
Each beauteous thing Of purple, red and green
Took breathing shape, and sportively inclined,
They lifted here aud there the sweets of life to find.
Some that before were roses, nov knew,
BY having such proud and stately air,
Aud those that once were vioists white and blue,
Now shOne in forms Of simple beauty there;
The lilies changed to maidens passing fair;
And those that erst were blue-bells could tell
BY their soft gaze, sweet face, aud flowing hair;
While on each countenance such hues did dwell,
As would have shsmed the bushes of tropic she'll
There nourishes no bud, however small,
That did not seem mortal to my eyes,
But something in their natures, one and all,
Partook Of previous idiosyncracies;
And many amongst them 1 could recognize
And 50 they sported with themselves and toyed,
In pleasing attitudes and merry guise;
Aud full of bliss their moments they enjoyed,
Nor knew of fwithered hopes nor happines destroyed
The tear from of my eyelid quickly dried,
And the illusion from my sight did pass
Back to the flowers again with rapid stride,
Stem, leaf, and petal in their thorny pride.
They bloomed moment, then began to fade,
All, all were dying not flower but died
And desolation marked the spot and made
A wreck Of splendor as earth's ornaments decayed.
The majesty of Time, all powerful Death,
Look'd on the flowers, and at his chilling sight
They droop'd though a serpent's poison'd breath
Had lowered round them, causing instant blight;
And like a King disrobng in the night,
Laid by their gorgeous yestments, and did seem,
In the soft floating Of that amber light,
As though my brain all passd with lightning
gleam,
To teach my wondring breast "This IL not all
dream" C..
EVANSVILLE, July 25, 1859.