The Dream Castle

‘Tis not a big castle upon a high hill,

     With turrets and ramparts of stone;

Whose towering sides, where the swallow abides,

     Are hidden with vines overgrown.

Where travelers falter and view from afar

     Its roof as it flashes and gleams;

Nay, nay, not at all, is it grand, is it tall,

     The castle I see in my dreams.

Were I young, with the measure of years at my feet,

     With the ardor of youth in my breast,

Then my castle would stand, like a firmament grand,

     On the heights of the far away crest.

And my soldiers would picket the ramparts of stone,

     And ‘twould give to my poets their themes;

But the years they have passed and diminished at last

     Is the castle I see in my dreams.

All I ask for me now is a tiny abode

     Where the forest my neighbor should be;

Where the lake calm and blue is forever in view,

     And my boat is e’er ready for me.

Where my health should be good and my wants shall be few

     Where life is quite all that it seems;

Ah! That is the way that I see life today,

     The castle I see in my dreams!

July 21, 1910

(Sunday 24^th)

                                             

                                               

                                                                                                   Cone House, Old Saybrook, CT