OH! that my young life were a lasting dream!

My spirit not awak’ning, till the beam

Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.

Yes! tho’ that long dream were of hopeless sorrow.

[[v]]

’Twere better than the cold reality

[[v]]

Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,

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And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,

A chaos of deep passion, from his birth.

But should it be — that dream eternally

Continuing — as dreams have been to me

In my young boyhood — should it thus be giv’n

’Twere folly still to hope for higher Heav’n.

For I have revell’d when the sun was bright

[[v]]

In the summer sky, in dreams of living light.

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And loveliness, — have left my very heart

Inclines [[In climes]] of my imaginings apart

From mine own home, with beings that have been

Of mine own thought — what more could I have seen?

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’Twas once — and only once — and the wild hour

From my remembrance shall not pass — some pow’r

Or spell had bound me — ’twas the chilly wind

Came o’er me in the night, and left behind

Its image on my spirit — or the moon

Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon

Too coldly — or the stars — howe’er it was

That dream was as that night-wind — let it pass.

 

[[v]]

I have been happy, tho’ in a dream.

I have been happy — and I love the theme: [page 119:]

Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life

As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife

Of semblance with reality which brings

To the delirious eye, more lovely things

Of Paradise and Love — and all our own!

Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.