Text: Edgar Allan Poe (ed. E. C. Stedman and G. E. Woodberry), “Dreams,” The Works of Edgar Allan PoeVol. X: Poems (1895), 10:125-126


[page 125:]


OH, that my young life were a lasting dream!

My spirit not awakening, till the beam

Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.

Yes! though that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,


’T were better than the cold reality


Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,


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 given

’Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven.

For I have revelled when the sun was bright


In the summer sky, in dreams of living light.


And loveliness, — have left my very heart

In climes of mine imagining, apart

From mine own home, with beings that have been

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

’T was once — and only once — and the wild hour

From my remembrance shall not pass — some power

Or spell had bound me; ’t was 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 [page 126:]

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

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

I have been happy, though in a dream.

I have been happy — and I love the theme —

Dreams! in their vivid coloring 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.







[S:0 - SW94, 1895] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - Dreams (Stedman and Woodberry, 1895)