Two dreams came down to earth one night

From the realm of mist and dew;

One was a dream of the old, old days,

And one was a dream of the new.

One was a dream of a shady lane

That led to the pickerel pond

Where the willows and rushes bowed themselves

To the brown old hills beyond.

And the people that peopled the old-time dream

Were pleasant and fair to see,

And the dreamer he walked with them again

As often of old walked he.

Oh, cool was the wind in the shady lane

That tangled his curly hair!

Oh, sweet was the music the robins made

To the springtime everywhere!

Was it the dew the dream had brought

From yonder midnight skies,

Or was it tears from the dear, dead years

That lay in the dreamer's eyes?

The other dream ran fast and free,

As the moon benignly shed

Her golden grace on the smiling face

In the little trundle-bed.

For 't was a dream of times to come--

Of the glorious noon of day--

Of the summer that follows the careless spring

When the child is done with play.

The dreams by Eugene Field