Just. A dream, a dream indeed—oh Livia,
That leaves his pressure yet upon my arm—
And that without the immediate help of God
I had not overcome—Oh, but the soul,
The soul must be unsteady in the faith,
So to be shaken even by a dream.
Oh, were my father here! But he’s at rest—
I know he is—upon his Saviour’s breast;
And—who knows!—may have carried up my cries
Ev’n to His ear upon whose breast he lies!