---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Sarah F. Pearson
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 5
number: 3
published: 1902-01
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Sarah F. Pearson, "A Dream. A Poem," *Improvement Era* 5, no. 3 (January 1902): 194.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0503unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera0503unse
start_page: 194
end_page: 194
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1902-01)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0503unse
  publication_year: 1902
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1902, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# A Dream. A Poem

<!-- page:194 -->

A DREAM.
BY SARAH E. PEARSON.
In the still fragrance of the balmy night,
The angel of thy presence came to me,
And whispered pregnant messages of thee,
In language pure as prayer, and soft, and light
As whirr of angel wings, in rapid flight;
As rhythmic cadences of dripping rain
Upon my cottage roof in musical refrain;
Intangible as scent of new-mown hay.
Or cool, swift rush of balsam-laden air.
At break of day.
Wondering, I gazed into his mystic eyes,
And tried to understand: So glad to be
Recipient of thy treasured sympathy.
To feel thy soul respond to my soul's cries,
Accordant love within thy bosom rise.
I dreamed I listened, as, in musing trance
Perception keen and quickened by his solemn glance,
He stooped and kissed my eyelids down. — They close
In dewy, dreamless slumber; deep, sweet,
Childlike repose.
And when I wake, his message all forgot,
A subtle spirit-essence in the air.
Floating like incense, greets me everywhere.
As though thy living presence in each spot
Whispered, "Forget me not, for thou art not forgotten.'*
In the press
Of myriad daily cares, heart-hunger, stress
Of chilling silence, loneliness, I feel
Once more I am remembered, and my heart
Sings happily, though silently, the dear
God's praises as I kneel.