Ballads for the Times (Now first collected,) Geraldine, A Modern Pyramid, Bartenus, A Thousand Lines, and other poems. By Martin F. Tupper. A new Edition, enlarged and revised |
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 | Ballads for the Times |  |
Dreams.
A dream—mysterious word, a dream!
What joys and sorrows are enshrined
In those dark hours we fondly deem
A playtime for the truant mind:
What joys and sorrows are enshrined
In those dark hours we fondly deem
A playtime for the truant mind:
It is a happy thing to dream,
When rosy thoughts and visions bright
Pour on the soul a golden stream
Of rich luxurious delight;
When rosy thoughts and visions bright
Pour on the soul a golden stream
Of rich luxurious delight;
It is a weary thing to dream,
When from the hot and aching brain
As from a boiling cauldron steam
The myriad forms in fancy's train;
When from the hot and aching brain
As from a boiling cauldron steam
The myriad forms in fancy's train;
It is a curious thing to dream,
When shapes grotesque of all quaint things
Like laughing water-witches seem
To sport in reason's turbid springs;
When shapes grotesque of all quaint things
Like laughing water-witches seem
To sport in reason's turbid springs;
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It is a glorious thing to dream,
When full of wings and full of eyes
Borne on the whirlwind or sun-beam
We race along the startled skies;
When full of wings and full of eyes
Borne on the whirlwind or sun-beam
We race along the startled skies;
It is a wondrous thing to dream
Of tumbling with a fearful shock
From some tall cliff where eagles scream,
—To light upon a feather rock;
Of tumbling with a fearful shock
From some tall cliff where eagles scream,
—To light upon a feather rock;
It is a terrible thing to dream
Of strangled throats and heart-blood spilt,
And ghosts that in the darkness gleam,
And horrid eyes of midnight guilt:—
Of strangled throats and heart-blood spilt,
And ghosts that in the darkness gleam,
And horrid eyes of midnight guilt:—
Who shall tell me what I dream?
Ages lingering in a night,—
Thronging thoughts of things that teem
With wonder, terror, and delight!
Ages lingering in a night,—
Thronging thoughts of things that teem
With wonder, terror, and delight!
| Ballads for the Times | |