CHILDISH DREAMS.
Our childish dreams were all too bright—
So rosy of the coming clay—
We nothing knew of busy cares—
Or griefs that lurked along the way.
So rosy of the coming clay—
We nothing knew of busy cares—
Or griefs that lurked along the way.
We laid our plans of pleasure well,
And thought 'twas living to enjoy—
We ne'er had felt relentless pain
That comes to blight, perhaps destroy.
And thought 'twas living to enjoy—
We ne'er had felt relentless pain
That comes to blight, perhaps destroy.
We built our castles towering high;
Had visions fair of wealth and fame;
Was sure that all could gather gold,
And all who wished could win a name.
Had visions fair of wealth and fame;
Was sure that all could gather gold,
And all who wished could win a name.
We thought each kindly word sincere,
And prompted by a kindly heart.
Nor could believe that smoothest tones
Too oft concealed a venomed dart.
And prompted by a kindly heart.
Nor could believe that smoothest tones
Too oft concealed a venomed dart.
Oh yes, our dreams were all too bright
And vanished one by one away—
But they were pleasant for a time;
Their memory is sweet today.
And vanished one by one away—
But they were pleasant for a time;
Their memory is sweet today.