Forty Years Hence

                                                   (To E.M., the Dreamer)

Ah, but could we but realize one half

The blessings that our dreamer dreamed.

Could we but wake at golden dawn

And let our eyes, so full of gratitude,

Feast upon the glorious transformation

Of our well-beloved town.

But hold! amidst the joy and revel

That such a scene would agitate,

Would we wish to mark the changes

That would fall upon our loved ones

Of our youth? Ah, no!

Oftentimes we are want to muse

Upon the future of our native place;

And we fain to raise it to a level

With the fairest spot on earth.

And we wonder what lies hidden

In the coming years for Moodus.

Shall we see in our short pilgrimage

Any marked changes in her welfare!

E’en some of those our dreamer dreamed.

But, ah! we do not wish to see

The bloom of youth speed on its way,

The firmer tread of middle age

Grow less elastic on the street,

And dear old faces, dearer with the years,

Pass by no more.

Yet “forty years hence” these things must be;

But rather or no our dreamer’s dream

E’er bursts forth into reality,

We have the joy and privilege

Of mapping out some wondrous change

For her – beloved town!

June 29, ‘91

Pub. in.

Ct. Valley Ad.

{In answer to E.M.’s dream of “Forty Years Hence”, in Conn. Valley Advertiser.}