TO ONE WHO SLEEPS

Fare not too far, my own,

Down ways all strange and new,

For I must find alone,

The road that leads to you.

Enchantments may arise

To lure thy little feet,

And charm thy wondering eyes;—

Yet;— wait for me, my sweet!

Already Earth doth seem

A phantom place to me,

And thy far home of dream,

Is my reality.

So this is just “good night”;—

Some stars will rise and wane,

But sure as comes the light,

I'll be with thee again!—