 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
THE DREAMER.
“Dreaming—dreaming—dreaming!—
Dreamer, what dreamest thou?”
“I dream of a lovely valley,
I dream of a mountain brow,
I dream of a mouldering ruin,
I dream of a turret tall,
And I dream of the verdant ivy
That clings to the castle wall:
And I think as I gaze
Through Fancy's haze,
Of a fairy hand, so fair,
That pluck'd the bright leaf
In an hour—too brief,
And wreathed it in her dark hair.”
Dreamer, what dreamest thou?”
“I dream of a lovely valley,
I dream of a mountain brow,
78
I dream of a turret tall,
And I dream of the verdant ivy
That clings to the castle wall:
And I think as I gaze
Through Fancy's haze,
Of a fairy hand, so fair,
That pluck'd the bright leaf
In an hour—too brief,
And wreathed it in her dark hair.”
“Dreaming—dreaming—dreaming!—
Dreamer, awake, and rise!
For sparkling things are round thee,
To win for thine own bright prize.
Of the past there is no returning,
The future uncertain gleams,
Be thine, then, the joys of the present,
Away with thy bardic dreams!”
“No—the dream is more sweet
Of those hours—too fleet,
When that fairy hand, so fair,
Did pluck the bright flow'r
From her own sweet bow'r
To wreathe in the raven hair.”
Dreamer, awake, and rise!
For sparkling things are round thee,
To win for thine own bright prize.
Of the past there is no returning,
The future uncertain gleams,
Be thine, then, the joys of the present,
Away with thy bardic dreams!”
“No—the dream is more sweet
Of those hours—too fleet,
When that fairy hand, so fair,
Did pluck the bright flow'r
From her own sweet bow'r
To wreathe in the raven hair.”
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |