The Rutland daily globe. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1873-1877, 1874-12-12
The 3utland Daily Globe.
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 12, 1874.
what the old MAN Secs In m,

Dreams.
love to dream, the old man signs,
love to wear the sweet disguise
That Fancy wraps around the form,
Through which the life-blood pulses warn
Unfettered then the heart may roam,
From lowest vale to mountain dome,
Needless of weary, aching limb,
or falterlng speed, or vision dim,
Unconscious Of the weight of years,
Their woes forget, allayed their fears,
He lives again, a merry child.
Repeats the sports of boyhood wild,
And bathing in the rosy blush,
OF Loves sweet dawnng feels the flush.
lie sees again the hazel eye,
Or one that's colored like the sky,
Or one that rivals darkest night,
It's blackness, and It's starry light.
Or that enthralling Arctic grey,
In which are blended night and day.
The hair he sees is Natures crown,
Or be it golden. black or brown,
lie asks not II these cunning curls,
Were made to order for the girls,
Or If that bright bewltching coil
Grew once in quite q different soil
That tint so delicate and faint,
Is real blood or only paint,
That pearly Wilderness, virgin snow,
Or such as Nature can't bestow;
Whether the ruby of the lip,
Has felt the brush's gentle dip;
yielding Nature had to swerve,
TIE round that undulating curve.
Whether laugh or sneeze would rout
And throw the cleaning ivory out,
o no, his dreams are Of the Past,
An honest Age, receding fast,
When rosy health was all the fashion,
And Love controlled the pulse OF passion (;
When honest sugar could command,
Without modlcum Of sand,
Sufficient price, and we could drain
The trimming cup, and not complain,
Or even raise the doubtful question,
What caused that fit Of Indigestion.
Why, even rum, they say, was pure;
And though to kill, 1t then was sure;
1t had It's friends in every station,
And gave the tlpplers long probation.
While now 1t sllulks In darkest holes,
And drags to IIades crazy souls,
The cloth the dreamer wore to school,
His mother made of honest wool
While ours, II destitute of cotton,
With 1imsy shoddy rags is rotten.
With tea from China, they were favored,
With sage or catnip never favored.
And coffee, roasted they and ground,
our honest matrons never found.
While all the luscious cup applauded,
That hungry swine had been deirauded.
o men were strong, and women fair,
Mighty to win, and bold to dare,
II sickness grasped the aching frame,
And glowed hot fevers burning flame,
TO loose the sharp imprisoned pain
The lancet pierced the swollen vein,
And out there gushed the boiling flood.
A red Niagara Of blood,
If this was not enough to start
The sullen flend, he felt the smart
or rasping bllsters, ponderous pills,
Compound of calomel. aloes, squills,
OF drugs more potent still,
Aided the Patients giant Will.
But low the pill must wear coat
OF sugar, and cen blsters float
In softest cream, and doctors fear
A drop OF blood may cast them clear.
Gontent are they to lat us die
A natural death, II they may ply
Their soothing art, to make us sleep
While over us the shadows creep.
The Homeopathic doctor brings
WEat darling little harmless things
The children throng him on the street,
And beg, with tears, for pellets sweet.
How nice the patient thinks 1t is,
To meet the sage's smiling phlz!
Disguised they don't turn aside,
This rising nausea to hide,
The least is mightiest they say,
And so they let us float away!
The aged love to dream, said,
or times when people used to wed,
Before their shining locks were gray,
LIES morning, not declining day,
Beheld the sweet betrothal then,
And lovers soon were married men.
But now, ah me, the painful years
Are fllled with changing hopes and fears,
Alternate faith. consuming doubts,
Wearing cen Job-like patience out.
or old, the birds would both engage
To build and nest the bridal cage,
Old bachelors were very rare,
Abhorred OF all the good and fair.
But now, they walt, while time is flying
And faith declines and hopes are dying
The old man dreams Of golden days,
And listens through the misty haze
For voices that were wont to thrill,
That waking he Will find are still.
Instead of flowers OF fragrant May,
The almond blossoms snowy spray
Sprnkles with silver raven hair,
Or hides the gold that once was there.
Remorseless Death has left him lone,
The early loved, the messy stone
Tells where they died, and where they slet
And darker, darker shadows creep,
over the pathway, near the place,
Where soon Will end his earthly race.
Blame him never, II the.present
Has less to make his journey pleasant;
The Past is bright with LIES sweet dawn
Its darker shadows all are gone.
GRAND ISLE. o. @. W