Classic Poem

Lost, in the month of December,
An exquisite dream and belief:
It either was dropped on Life's highway,
Or stolen by Time, the arch-thief.
If found, please return to the owner —
Its value is small save to her;
As reward all her earthly possessions
She offers without a demur.

'T is so small that the owner could hold it
In one human heart's little space;
So great, all earth shone with its brightness
And looked like a glorified place.
If found, and returned in good order,
The offered reward will be paid;
But the finder is cautioned against delay, —
Dreams exposed to the air sometimes fade!