| |
| A DREAM came lately in the hours | |
| To nightly slumber due; | |
| It pictur’d forth no fairy bowers | |
| To Fancy’s raptur’d view; | |
| It had not much of marvels strange, | 5 |
| Nor aught of wild and frequent change:— | |
| |
| But all seem’d real—ay! as much, | |
| As now the page I trace | |
| Is palpable to sight and touch; | |
| Then how could doubt have place? | 10 |
| Yet was I not from doubt exempt, | |
| But ask’d myself if still I dreamt. | |
| |
| I felt I did; but, spite of this, | |
| Ev’n thus in dreams to meet, | |
| Had much, too much of dearest bliss | 15 |
| Though not enough to cheat: | |
| I knew the vision soon would fade, | |
| And yet I bless’d it while it stay’d. | |
| |
| But oh, thy look!—It was not one | |
| That earthly features wear; | 20 |
| Nor was it aught to fear or shun, | |
| As fancied spectres are: | |
| ’Twas gentle, pure, and passionless, | |
| Yet full of heavenly tenderness. | |
| |
| One thing was strange.—It seem’d to me | 25 |
| We were not long alone; | |
| But many more were circling thee, | |
| Whom thou on earth hadst known; | |
| Who seem’d as greeting thy return | |
| From some unknown, remote sojourn. | 30 |
| |
| To them thou wast, as others be | |
| Whom on this earth we love; | |
| I marvell’d much they could not see | |
| Thou camest from above; | |
| And often to myself I said, | 35 |
| “How can they thus approach the dead?” | |
| |
| But though all these, with fondness warm, | |
| Said, “Welcome!” o’er and o’er, | |
| Still that expressive shade, or form, | |
| Was silent, as before! | 40 |
| And yet its stillness never brought | |
| To them one hesitating thought. | |
| |
| I only knew thee as thou wert; | |
| A being not of earth! | |
| Yet had I not the power to exert | 45 |
| My voice to check their mirth; | |
| For blameless mirth was theirs, to see, | |
| Once more, a friend belov’d like thee. | |
| |
| And so apart from all I stood, | |
| Till tears, though not of grief, | 50 |
| Afforded, to that speechless mood, | |
| A soothing, calm relief: | |
| And, happier than if speech were free, | |
| I stood, and watch’d thee silently! | |
| |
| I watch’d thee silently, and while | 55 |
| I mus’d on days gone by, | |
| Thou gav’st me one celestial smile— | |
| One look that cannot die. | |
| It was a moment worthy years! | |
| I woke, and found myself in tears. | 60 |
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