A Dream

I dreamed

A dream of you,

Not as you seemed

When you were late unkind

And blind

To my eyes' pleading for a debt long due,

But touched and true

And all inclined

To tenderest fancies on love's inmost theme.

How sweet you were to me and ah, how kind

In that dear dream!

I felt

Your lips on mine

Mingle and melt,

And your cheek touch my cheek.

I, weak

With vain desires and askings for a sign

Of love divine,

Found my grief break,

And wept and wept in an unending stream

Of sudden joy set free, yet could not speak,

Dumb in my dream.

I knew

You loved me then,

And I knew too

The bliss of souls in Heaven

New--shriven,

Who look with pity on still sinning men,

And turn again

To be forgiven

In the dear arms of their God holding them,

And spend themselves in praise from morn till even

Nor break their dream.

I woke

In my mid bliss,

At midnight's stroke,

And knew you lost and gone.

Forlorn

I called you back to my unfinished kiss,

But only this

One word of scorn

You answered me, ``'Twas better loved to seem

Than loved to be, since all love is forsworn,

Always a dream.''