ONCE MORE THE DREAMBy W. M. Shields
By W. M. Shields
Once more the dream! Once more the dream!That brings with undiminished gleamThe light that shone upon my youthFrom regions of untarnished Truth.Before this stoic mockery,Called wisdom of maturity,Could dim the luster of its glow.Or ere its cares could stem the flowOf love from thy great heart to me—Thy heart of hills, my Tennessee.Once more the dream! Once more the dream!And all old things unaltered seem;Restored are joys I counted lostBeyond a time all worry-tossed.The streams yet wear a silver sheenDespite the years of change between;The bird songs have their olden thrill,The woods are cool upon the hill,And partial Nature smiles on thee,Who art her queen, my Tennessee.Once more the dream! Once more the dream!And floats to me upon the streamFrom Memory’s generous spring some formOr voice I loved beyond the storm.And thus does Memory surely proveHerself an angel, born of Love.’Tis not a dead past that she brings,For past is present when she sings.And thus old joys once known with thee,I live again, my Tennessee.Thus let me dream! Thus let me dream!Nor Time deprive me of a beam.For, oh, that heart is happiestWhich dwells on pleasures past and best!And that heart bides in saddest gloomThat broods upon some ill to come.Let these old joys and loves be mineTill life shall drift beyond the lineFrom heaven that is to heaven to be,From thy warm heart, my Tennessee.
Once more the dream! Once more the dream!That brings with undiminished gleamThe light that shone upon my youthFrom regions of untarnished Truth.Before this stoic mockery,Called wisdom of maturity,Could dim the luster of its glow.Or ere its cares could stem the flowOf love from thy great heart to me—Thy heart of hills, my Tennessee.Once more the dream! Once more the dream!And all old things unaltered seem;Restored are joys I counted lostBeyond a time all worry-tossed.The streams yet wear a silver sheenDespite the years of change between;The bird songs have their olden thrill,The woods are cool upon the hill,And partial Nature smiles on thee,Who art her queen, my Tennessee.Once more the dream! Once more the dream!And floats to me upon the streamFrom Memory’s generous spring some formOr voice I loved beyond the storm.And thus does Memory surely proveHerself an angel, born of Love.’Tis not a dead past that she brings,For past is present when she sings.And thus old joys once known with thee,I live again, my Tennessee.Thus let me dream! Thus let me dream!Nor Time deprive me of a beam.For, oh, that heart is happiestWhich dwells on pleasures past and best!And that heart bides in saddest gloomThat broods upon some ill to come.Let these old joys and loves be mineTill life shall drift beyond the lineFrom heaven that is to heaven to be,From thy warm heart, my Tennessee.
Once more the dream! Once more the dream!That brings with undiminished gleamThe light that shone upon my youthFrom regions of untarnished Truth.Before this stoic mockery,Called wisdom of maturity,Could dim the luster of its glow.Or ere its cares could stem the flowOf love from thy great heart to me—Thy heart of hills, my Tennessee.
Once more the dream! Once more the dream!
That brings with undiminished gleam
The light that shone upon my youth
From regions of untarnished Truth.
Before this stoic mockery,
Called wisdom of maturity,
Could dim the luster of its glow.
Or ere its cares could stem the flow
Of love from thy great heart to me—
Thy heart of hills, my Tennessee.
Once more the dream! Once more the dream!And all old things unaltered seem;Restored are joys I counted lostBeyond a time all worry-tossed.The streams yet wear a silver sheenDespite the years of change between;The bird songs have their olden thrill,The woods are cool upon the hill,And partial Nature smiles on thee,Who art her queen, my Tennessee.
Once more the dream! Once more the dream!
And all old things unaltered seem;
Restored are joys I counted lost
Beyond a time all worry-tossed.
The streams yet wear a silver sheen
Despite the years of change between;
The bird songs have their olden thrill,
The woods are cool upon the hill,
And partial Nature smiles on thee,
Who art her queen, my Tennessee.
Once more the dream! Once more the dream!And floats to me upon the streamFrom Memory’s generous spring some formOr voice I loved beyond the storm.And thus does Memory surely proveHerself an angel, born of Love.’Tis not a dead past that she brings,For past is present when she sings.And thus old joys once known with thee,I live again, my Tennessee.
Once more the dream! Once more the dream!
And floats to me upon the stream
From Memory’s generous spring some form
Or voice I loved beyond the storm.
And thus does Memory surely prove
Herself an angel, born of Love.
’Tis not a dead past that she brings,
For past is present when she sings.
And thus old joys once known with thee,
I live again, my Tennessee.
Thus let me dream! Thus let me dream!Nor Time deprive me of a beam.For, oh, that heart is happiestWhich dwells on pleasures past and best!And that heart bides in saddest gloomThat broods upon some ill to come.Let these old joys and loves be mineTill life shall drift beyond the lineFrom heaven that is to heaven to be,From thy warm heart, my Tennessee.
Thus let me dream! Thus let me dream!
Nor Time deprive me of a beam.
For, oh, that heart is happiest
Which dwells on pleasures past and best!
And that heart bides in saddest gloom
That broods upon some ill to come.
Let these old joys and loves be mine
Till life shall drift beyond the line
From heaven that is to heaven to be,
From thy warm heart, my Tennessee.