XVI INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS 



A Dream of the Pageant 



By Fred E. Pond 



I wandered down to Warwick town — 



Pride of fair Warwick vale — 

 To dream within Tom Draw's old inn 



Of sport o'er hill and dale. 

 October days with golden haze 



Had tinged the autumn air; 

 The brilliant leaves that nature weaves 



Were waving everywhere. 



My dream by chance fill'd with romance 



Revived the olden time, 

 The scenes and ways of other days, 



Like minstrel's song and rhyme. 

 A rippling stream in sunny gleam — 



The Wawayanda rill — 

 Flow'd thro' the town of good renown; 



Big brook trout rising still. 



Across the run where Washington 



Had been an honor'd guest, 

 The drum and fife gave martial life. 



In dreamland's wand'ring quest. 

 Within the hall a stately ball — 



I see the figures yet — 

 Where belle and beau with court'sy low, 



There danced the minuet. 



With mild surprise my waking eyes 



Beheld the dream come true; 

 The maids and men in house and glen 



A pageant picture drew. 

 'Twas an ideal so like the real 



That those from near and far 

 Saw with amaze and eager gaze 



Old Warwick's gates ajar. 



