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149

XI.
A DREAM OF THE MOUNTAINS

A sense of sleeping in between dark firs
That clothe some dreamy monstrous Apennines,—
A sense of fragrance wafted from sweet pines
Across the illimitable mountain-spurs,—
And then, as the awaking mind demurs,
The soft discovery that a woman twines
Long leafy tresses,—that her splendour shines
Through sleep, and that the ambrosial breath was hers.
So dreamed I; and my spirit took its flight,
Invulnerable, o'er the mountain-tops,
On beatific pinions, softly bright
As are the golden crowns of August crops;—
Go where I will she follows me, nor stops
Drooping for the malignance of the night.
1872.