|
|
In visions of
the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed --
But a waking dreams of life and light Hath left
me broken-hearted.
Ah! what is not a dream by day
To him whose eyes are cast On things around him
with a ray Turned back upon the past?
That
holy dream -- that holy dream, While all the
world were chiding, Hath cheered me as a lovely beam
A lonely spirit guiding.
What though that
light, thro' storm and night, So trembled from
afar- What could there be more purely bright
In Truths day-star ?
|
|
|