IN visions of the dark night

I have dreamed of joy departed —

But a waking dreams of life and light

Hath left me broken-hearted.

 

Ah! what is not a dream by day

To him whose eyes are cast

On things around him with a ray

Turned back upon the past?

 

That holy dream — that holy dream,

While all the world were chiding,

Hath cheered me as a lovely beam

A lonely spirit guiding.

 

What though that light, thro' storm and night,

So trembled from afar —

What could there be more purely bright

In Truths day-star?

P.