| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 1446. A Plain Man’s Dream |
| | | By Frederick Keppel |
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| WERE I transported to some distant star | |
| With fifty little children, girls and boys, | |
| Or to some fabled land unknown, afar, | |
| Where never sound could come of this world’s noise; | |
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| Our world begun anew, as when of yore | 5 |
| Sad Adam fled from Eden; I alone | |
| The sole custodian of all human lore,— | |
| No books to aid, all rules and records gone,— | |
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| What could I teach each tender, untaught child? | |
| How much of this world’s wisdom could I give | 10 |
| To raise him from the savage, fierce and wild, | |
| And train each soul a worthy life to live? | |
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| Plain human speech, some simple laws of life, | |
| A little tillage, household arts a few; | |
| The law of rectitude o’ercoming strife; | 15 |
| Things clean and sane, the simple and the true. | |
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| But of Man’s long, slow climb from Error’s reach,— | |
| The hard-won, precious wisdom of the ages,— | |
| What (and, alas, how little!) could I teach | |
| Which changes men from savages to sages? | 20 |
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| Some things I ’ve known I never would impart. | |
| Somewhat I ’d tell of building, writing, preaching; | |
| Some hints I ’d give on healing, science, art; | |
| Love they would learn full soon without my teaching! | |
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