The Dream

Love, if I weep it will not matter,

And if you laugh I shall not care;

Foolish am I to think about it,

But it is good to feel you there.

Love, in my sleep I dreamed of waking, —

White and awful the moonlight reached

Over the floor, and somewhere, somewhere,

There was a shutter loose, — it screeched!

Swung in the wind, — and no wind blowing! —

I was afraid, and turned to you,

Put out my hand to you for comfort, —

And you were gone! Cold, cold as dew,

Under my hand the moonlight lay!

Love, if you laugh I shall not care,

But if I weep it will not matter, —

Ah, it is good to feel you there!