They were dreamers, these pioneers; they saw visions and they had dreams. The dreamers are the architects of greatness. Their vision lies within their sould. They never see the mirage of fact but peer beyond the veils of mist and doubt and ierce the wals of unborn time. Grief only streaks their hair with silver; it never grays their hopes. in place of stone their spires stab the world's skies.
Your homes are built upon a land a dreamer found. The pictures on its walls are visions from a dreamer's soul. A dreamer's pain wails from your violin. They are the eternal conquerors; their vassals are the years.
Whatever the future holds in store for us, that story of toil and suffering and final triumph should be held as sacred history by every one who honors devotion to duty in men and self-sacrifice in women. It should be taught to the children in the schools, and the one lesson that should be impressed upon the mind of every child is, that a wrong act on his or her part would be a reproach to the brave men and women who came with plows and covered wagons in the shadow of despair and by incessant toil laid solidly the foundationof our states.
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