II.
I saw her with her tearful eyes raised high,
Unheedful of the whirling flakes of snow,
That flitting through the sad air to and fro
Flecked her dark dress; cold from the leaden sky,
The autumn winds came sobbing restless by,
Wailing to find it still so cold below;
While faded violets of a year ago,
Pressed to her lips, hushed her own rising cry.
O lonely dreamer of a dream long flown,
I come to waken thee! for dying day
In purple twilight shrouds the noontide gleam;
And when the lovely visions that have grown
So fair and dear flit vanishing away,
God blesses dreamers who no longer dream.