Give to me one of the gifts of life-,
A dream that is wetted with tears;
One that has hung in its maker’s shop
Mid the cobwebs and dust of the years.
Let me carry the dream with its beauty unseen,
With its sweetness all hid neath a shroud;
Let the sun of the day chase the cobwebs away
As the dream I’ll let drift in a crowd.
Give to me one of the joys of life:
A heart that is aching to hold
A little love, a little mirth,
And a smile full of wealth untold.
Well I know that I’ll start with a tug at my heart
And my eyes will be clouded with tears,
As that dream settles down in the heart of a town
Over someone alone through the years.
The gift of life is a kindly word,
Or a smile, it is all the same.
The joy of life, perhaps a homeless waif
Who is trying to play the game.
Won’t you carry a dream though its worth you should deem
As unworthy of seeing the day,
And your heart will fill too with a hope born anew
As your smile chases heart-aches away.
– Circa 1936