HE HAD HIS DREAM
He had his dream, and all through life, Worked up to it through toil and strife.
Afloat fore'er before his eyes, It colored for him all his skies:
The storm-cloud dark
Above his ship,
The calm and listless vault of blue
Took on its hopeful hue,
It tinctured every passing beam—
He had his dream.
He labored hard and failed at last, His sails too weak to bear the blast, The raging tempests tore away And sent his tattered ship astray.
But what cared he For wind or sea!
He said, "The tempest will be short, My ship will come to port." He saw through every cloud a gleam-He had his dream.
PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR