Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867.
II. A DreamEdmund Ollier (1827–1886)
A
In the night, and cried, “O world of heavy gloom!
O sunless world! O universal tomb!
Blind, cold, mechanic sphere, wherein I seek
In vain for Life and Love, till Hope grows weak,
And falters towards Chaos! Vast, blank doom!
Huge darkness in a narrow prison-room!
Thou art dead,—dead!” Yet, ere he ceased to speak,
Across the level ocean, in the East,
The moon-dawn grew; and all that mountain’s side
Rose, newly-born from empty dusk. Fields, trees,
And deep glen-hollows, as the light increased,
Seemed vital; and from heaven, bare and wide,
The moon’s white soul looked over lands and seas.