The Dream
Believe me, this was true last night,Tho' it is false to-day.-- A.M.F. Robinson.
A fair dream to my chamber flew:Such a crowd of folk that stirred,Jested, fluttered; only you,You alone of all that band,Calm and silent, spake no word.Only once you neared my place,And your hand one moment's spaceSought the fingers of my hand;Your eyes flashed to mine; I knewAll was well between us two.
* * * * *
On from dream to dream I past,But the first sweet vision castMystic radiance o'er the last.
* * * * *
When I woke the pale night layStill, expectant of the day;All about the chamber hungTender shade of twilight gloom;The fair dream hovered round me, clungTo my thought like faint perfume:--Like sweet odours, such as clingTo the void flask, which erst enclosesAttar of rose; or the pale stringOf amber which has lain with roses.
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