| I dreamed that I went to the city of God,
To Heaven, resplendent and fair.
By one in authority I was told
That not a Vermonter was there —
"Impossible, Sir, for from my own town
Many sought this delectable place —
And each must be here with a harp or a crown
And a conqueror's palm, a dear linen gown
Received through unmerited grace."
The angel replied. "All Vermonters come here
When first they depart from the earth,
But after a day, a month, or a year,
They restless, lonesome and homesick appear
And sign for the land of their birth.
They tell of ravines — wild, secluded and
deep
And of flower-decked landscapes serene;
Of mountains imposing and steep,
Down which the torrents exultingly leap
Through forests perennially green.
They tell of the many and beautiful hills
Their forests majestic appear.
They tell of its rivers, its lakes, streams and rills
Where nature the purest of water distills,
And they soon get dissatisfied here.
We give them the best that the Kingdom provides
They have everything here that they want,
But not a Vermonter in Heaven abides,
A very brief period here he resides.
Then hikes his way back to Vermont."
— Author Unknown, Circa 1915
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