| |
| OH, let me dream for a while | |
| Under the winter sky; | |
| Dream of the light of a vanished smile, | |
| And the hopes of a day gone by; | |
| Dream of a lovely face, | 5 |
| And the grace of a lovely head, | |
| And the form that I clasped in a fond embrace— | |
| Let me dream for a while of the dead. | |
| |
| Dead! can it be I am here | |
| Whispering this to my heart? | 10 |
| Dead! and I have not one welcome tear | |
| To soften the inward smart! | |
| Dead! and I cannot pray, | |
| For I think of my love that is gone, | |
| And the hope that was withered in one short day | 15 |
| Has blasted my heart to stone. | |
| |
| What have I left but to dream | |
| Of my love that is laid in her rest, | |
| To live as I live, for my life’s years seem | |
| But an empty dream at the best! | 20 |
| Everything round is still | |
| And white as a new-made shroud, | |
| From the snow-clad lea to the pines on the hill, | |
| And the fleecy veil of the cloud. | |
| |
| Here on the snow I lie | 25 |
| Seeking a balm for care, | |
| Looking up to the blank of the sky, | |
| And the blue of the fathomless air. | |
| Hark! how the chill winds wail, | |
| And shiver and moan in their flight; | 30 |
| What a depth of woe in the sorrowful tale | |
| They tell in the ear of the night! | |
| |
| What is it that makes them sad? | |
| Do they miss the grace of the flowers, | |
| And sigh for the time when their breath was glad | 35 |
| With the sweets of the summer hours? | |
| Ye do well, chill winds, to rave, | |
| For the day of your brides has fled, | |
| The earth lies heavy and cold on their grave, | |
| They are dead—and she too is dead! | 40 |
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