Classic Poem

So, little heart, Love's summer sweets are dead —
The glory and the gleam.
Face the world bravely; let no tear be shed.
It was a dream — a dream!

Were there not whispers in the song-thrilled air —
A shadow in the beam?
And did you think a flower could live so fair?
Heart, 'twas a dream — a dream!

We are all dreamers from the mother's breast
Through years of peace or pain.
Weep not past dreams; forget them! it is best.
Dear, you shall dream again!

The world is beckoning with its bright lights — see!
Green fields and rippled waves.
The lilies for the living! There will be
Flowers enough for graves.

Lay by each token — touched, perhaps, with tears —
From the new life apart.
The wan and withered violets of sweet years,
That dreamed above your heart.

Playthings of Fate, that Fate would cast aside:
Say in new strength and trust;
" Sweet were the violets — but the violets died;
Dust unto rosy dust! "

Dear little heart! the mourning will be brief;
Lo! a bright dawn appears.
This world of joy is all too sweet for grief —
Too sunny-bright for tears.

Take up the task; there will be strength for all; —
Stars through the storm will stream.
Leave the past tearless where the dead leaves fall:
It was a dream — a dream!