The Garden of Dreams

1895

Who could dispense with that garden fair,
The lotus flowered garden of dreams?
Never a life is too homely or bare
To cherish a fragrant spot somewhere,
Budding to open in promises rare
In the magical gardens of dreams.

How could we live and not yield to despair,
Bereft of the garden of dreams?
The fever of living, the pangs of care,
The hopes deferred all the sorrows we bear
Forgotten are charmed to sleep in the air
Of the magical garden of dreams.

The coveted things of life are there,
In the tranquil garden of dreams.
Instead of our one little life of care,
There we live many lives ideal and fair,
Great aims uplift us, all things we dare
In the magical garden of dreams.

— Elizabeth Barton in Detroit Free Press.