Some Dreams We Have Are Nothing Else

I Saw Old Autumn In The Misty Morn Stand Shadowless Like Silence, Listening To Silence.

Peace And Rest At Length Have Come, All The Day's Long Toil Is Past; And Each Heart Is Whispering, "home, Home At Last!"

While The Steeples Are Loud In Their Joy, To The Tune Of The Bells' Ring-a-ding, Let Us Chime In A Peal, One And All, For We All Should Be Able To Sing Hullah Baloo.

Comfort And Indolence Are Cronies.

I Remember, I Remember The Roses, Red And White, The Violets, And The Lily-cups, Those Flowers Made Of Light! The Lilacs, Where The Robin Built, And Where My Brother Set The Laburmum On His Birthday,- The Tree Is Living Yet.