The Elk Mountain pilot., 1882-04-27
Il DREAM or DECENCY
"And the stately ships gees sn
10 their haven under the .ill,

Il DREAM OF DECENCY
"And the stately ships gees sn
TO their haven under the hill,
And oh fer The touch 0. vanished hand,
And the sound Of voice that i. still"
Mr. EDITOR: Have you ever stood
before a canvass upon which some
master hand had lined a great thought?
Have you ever felt the awakening
of some forgotten dream?
Has some word, some voice, pic
turc. light in the landscape, called
up buried, forgotten past3 A mem
ory that seemed to come from OUT an
other lie; mystic thing, unreal; the
flicker of light, elusive, yet real,
now in one form and now in another,
playing through your being, and al
ways Just beyond the grasp2
Meaningless questions these may
seem to you, Mr.. Editor, and you
may ask what has all this to do with
the development of the great mineral
belt of the Gunnison 1t does seem
out of place, | am bound to confess,
and yet that which is. is, and has a
right to be, even in this famed land
Of gold and silver.
"We are made of such stuff as
dreams are made OF and our little lie
is bounded by a Sleep Dreams and
memories and unrealities are the most
Of 1t, after all, and memories are like
windows, they let In the sweet sun
light l have been letting in food
of these sunlights.
Some where IN an old volume l
found piece of sweet clover, brown
and withered by many years, and the
fragrance Of the sweetest memory that
every comes to man clung about 1t.
There is an old hish-back pew in a
village church, and even now the
memory of the tall steeple. and inside,
the, to my youthful fancy, great white
pulpit, and the singing of the village
choir, awaken a solemn feeling as Of
dim cathedral lights and ffetted vaults
and sounds of organ music. When the
dull sermon and the summers hea,
had overcome my youthful spirits, !
remember now Of slipping of the
cushioned seat to the little stool at the
feet of one who always wore on Sab
bath days bit of clover.
There is a long lane and on either
side bread fields of brightest green,
and beneath the waving heads OF tim.
othy and red top grow great bunche:
Of delicious wild strawberries, where
IN days long gone | stopped to FIJI the
aching void OF my young stomach,
after the mondays lunch cf ginger
bread and aDpleS.
stand again upon the knoll tha,
slopes down to the waters edge in the
bright sunlight, and | look far out to
the harbor's mouth, and l hear agair
the deep and mystic cadence of ole
oceans beat, and | see the flashes
through the spray as it flies nigh up
above the ragged rocks. I dream the
dreams of distant, unknown lands, O
ships and monsters of the deep. The
same old light house, lustrous in it:
coat OF white, stands sentinel there
these many years and l catch far ou
the distant SOLEMN warning of the
bell.
All sorts of memories are wander
ing through my brain, unb!dden-
spirits Of the past-go trouplng bv
and beckon me to follow, as If beyond
there lay land as fair and swee. a
all these OLD forgotten things.
try to catch the broken thread o
all ny dreams. but something in m,
lite, come barrier, some sin committed
some duty unperformed, some spell
holds back my voice and tongue, ane
when try 10 call feel sense 0
pain, as in dream; l hear as in a,
echo far and far away,and as listen
catch this echo: Decencv Decency
decency. and from the village beii
there comes the calling voice Of de
cency, decency,and in the hills hea
the echo, and over the bright blu,
waters of the bay their floats the echo
ing call And what means this thing
and what has it to do with me, or