DREAMS.
The magic of a dream how great!
To us it gives a might divine,
Whereby our souls annihilate
The power of death, and space, and time.
The forms which lie recumbent, cold,
In tombs and charnel-houses lone,
In dreams our eyes again behold,
As they in life were loved and known.
We enter through the gates of sleep,
Into a neutral interspace,
Most pleasant to the eyes that weep,
For Life and Death can there embrace.
There absence ceases to divide;
Though seas and mountains intervene,
Friend unto friend can swiftly glide,
And reck not of the space between.
There I last night thy form beheld,
My ancient comrade, tried and true!
Tears from my eyes profusely welled,
And tears as freely fell from you!