A Glimpse of the Past

There’s nothing for me in the up-to-date schemes,

      In the methods of travel so fast;

I live in the midst of far away dreams,

      I dote on the things of the past.

I yearn not to soar far away in the skies,

      I stand before science aghast;

Let me live in the days of the stage and the chaise,

      Let me dwell in the peace of the past.

I shrink from the hurry that shatters the lives

      Of the people who dwell in the mart.

They flounder and swerve on the strength of their nerve,

      Like a boat minus compass or chart.

O, the roil and the broil of the everyday life,

      With its tendencies mighty and fast;

It is well for the souls who are striving for goals,

      But I want the sweet peace of the past.

I want the old horse and I want the old chaise,

      And the ride down the old shady lane;

And I want the sweet maid who knows nothing of trade,

      But who knows how to handle the rein.

And I want the old mill by the languishing stream,

      And the rest of the churchyard at last;

I see nothing but waste in this hurry and haste,

      Let me live in the dreams of the past.

July 27, 1910