Smiled on till the gray dawn’s gleam
When those near by might have heard him weep:
“I want my dream—my dream!”
For he dreamed of the yesterdays of youth,
And the smile on a mother’s face;
A hearth of old-time faith and truth
In the light of an old home place;
He had won his share of the fame and fight
In the struggle and toil of men—
Yet he sobbed and sighed, in the breaking light: