|
|
In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed, But a waking dream of life and light Hath left me borken-hearted.
Ah! What is not a dream by day To him whose eyes are cast On things around hime 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 Truth's day-star?