The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | V. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
167
LXIV. “IF SO THINE EYES WOULD NOT FORSAKE THE DREAM!”
I dreamed of thee last night.—All night thine eyes before me
Shone strangely clear and sweet, and strange delight flowed o'er me
In rippling wave on wave.
All night I dreamed of thee: and dreamed in tenderest fashion
Of the great boon of death that crowns a perfect passion
And of large light that gleams beyond the grave.
Shone strangely clear and sweet, and strange delight flowed o'er me
In rippling wave on wave.
All night I dreamed of thee: and dreamed in tenderest fashion
Of the great boon of death that crowns a perfect passion
And of large light that gleams beyond the grave.
How gladly would I cease the feverish pain of living
If only thy sweet eyes might ever be forthgiving
The same soul-maddening gleam:
How gladly would I let the one night's dream continue
Into the dream of death, if therein I could win you,—
If so thine eyes would not forsake the dream!
If only thy sweet eyes might ever be forthgiving
The same soul-maddening gleam:
How gladly would I let the one night's dream continue
Into the dream of death, if therein I could win you,—
If so thine eyes would not forsake the dream!
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |