 | The vision of Cortes, Cain, and other poems |  |
[I saw it in my dream. O! could I task]
I saw it in my dream. O! could I taskMy sense again to slumber, nor awake
So long as the fair vision were in sight.—
I will not do it so much wrong, to make
My rude words, show the picture thou dost ask;
But I should feel it poorly, if delight
Be only in my feature—for I feel,
From the devoted counsels of my heart,
That I should look enjoyment, nor appeal
To low discourse of language, to bepaint
My morning vision of calm happiness:—
That dream, which it would madden, to reveal,
And which even song would render spiritless—
It was such deep, such fine, heart-touching tenderness.
| The vision of Cortes, Cain, and other poems | |