THE WORKINGMAN'S DREAM.
Copyright, MDCCCXCIV, by Henry J. Wehman.
Words and Music by J. P. Skelly.
A workingman came home one night and sat down just to rest,
And while he sat he fell asleep, with sorrow in his breast;
he slept the sleep of honest toil, and willing, working hand,
And in a dream he saw again good fortune in the land.
He dreamt he saw his faithful wife come smiling to his side,
And 'round him romped his little ones, whose laughter was his pride;
The sun of bright prosperity shone 'round him once again,
But when be woke he sighed, "Alas! my dream was all in vain!"
He heeded not the storm without; through it he'd tried all day
To earn the honest dollar that for food and fire would pay;
His dream was of the children sweet he longed to free from care;
He never thought that they with him such poverty would bear.- Chorus.
His wife, with all a mother's love, while tears were in her heart,
Stood silently by while death came in, her babe and her to part.
The man slept on, a peaceful smile upon his ragged face,
His dream was of his little boy and little baby Grace.- Chorus.
He woke at last and gazed around upon the cheerless room,
His dream was but a mockery, it brought him deeper gloom;
He looked into the cradle on the waxen face so fair,
The child that he so fondly loved was in the angels' care.-Chorus.