A DREAM.
I dreamt, about the morning hours,
That in a field of scented flowers,
By Rocknabad’s cool flow,
I saw Ferangis go
Swift by me like a dream of spring;
And I, whose heart was hot to fling
Myself before my dear,
Stood full of silent fear.
I dreamt, about the morning hours,
That in a field of scented flowers,
By Rocknabad’s cool flow,
I saw Ferangis go
Swift by me like a dream of spring;
And I, whose heart was hot to fling
Myself before my dear,
Stood full of silent fear.