University of Virginia Library

Sleep is not death; but the absence of thought,
And the exercise of the knowing and
Reflecting faculties, which make up judgment.
Sleep is not the absence of life; but that
State of dormancy in its functions, which,
When the imagination roves, and sense
And judgement slumbers,—we call it dreaming;
But, dreaming has its seeming hours of truth,
And bright reality,—although, comparison
And causality, the soil rich, from whence
The fruits of judgment spring,—lie in dormant
States during our sleeping hours;—shaded by
The towering mount, that hides the radiant
Sun of thought, from shining on the fruitful
Intellect, guided by coadjutor,—
The soul. This mount, great mount it is, and dark,
Yea, and the Andes of the soul, forbids, while
In our sleeping hours, the vital rays from
Shining on the flora of our thought; but,
While the orion of our sense is hid,
The moon, Imagination's moon, appears,
And glimmers through the lattice of the brain;
And vivifies the dormant spark of life
And sense, save knowledge and judgement; and makes
The airy of imagination rove,
Like bark without a pilot, o'er the sea,
On billows of the soul; and scatters far
And wide, without the realm of real things,
Worlds of images, that often task the sense
To say, whether they were real or not.
There is a line—inherent in the state
And nature of our being—of our life—
A line of demarkation between our
Sleeping and our waking hours; that each should
Have its time of exercise, and sweet—yea,
Deep repose; still upholding and supporting
Organic action, by the dormant state, as
By the state of nice activity. As,
In our waking hours, sense and judgment, with
Sweet knowledge and reflection, spring from life
And exercise of intellect; so, in
Our sleeping hours,—void of judgment, and those
Nice and tender feelings of reflection,—
Cause to spring from animal life, visions
To imagination and images, as
Real, without the reach of judgment, and
The tender feelings of reflection, as,
We recognize in waking hours; save, when
Judgment rectifies the error—resolves
The problem into ovanescence wild;
And shews wherein the intellect usurps
The power of animal life; and seats fair
Judgement as the great umpire of the soul.

From these reflections, let me now suggest
A vision, that once rolled across the deep,
Wide ocean of my soul, in sleeping hours.

'Twas in the midnight hour of the night; when
Candles of eternity, and shining
Lamps of God, illuminated earth, fair
Earth,—with light divine; when Morphia bathed
My weary faculties in sea of sweet
Repose;—that, in a garden wild, of sweet
And floral joys, I saw two sentient youths,—
Two roses in the midst of many sweets,—
In midst of flowers beloved, standing beside
A bed of thyme, which shone above the light
Of Heaven; and gave a hue to all the flowers
Around. The bed of thyme, as seemed, was spread
Far, all around; and it had often been
'The pillow of fair Hymen, many years
Before; but now, as seemed, it caught the sides
Of two sweet youths in prime of life. The Maid,
In years, some younger than the Boy; and like sweet
Rose in Eden's bloom, expanding all its
Leaves before the radiant sun, and filling
Earth and sky, with fragrance sweet,—so did she
Seem to mortal eyes, save one, who held her
Lilly hand with trembling accents; and, with
Heart o'er-powered by the impulse strong, of love;
She seemed far brighter than his tongue could tell,
Or eye had ever seen before; but on fair
Tablet of his heart, he traced such sweet'ning words—
Unutterable words! as none can read,
Save those who feel the mighty thrills that run
Through all the avenues of life, and signed
As signature sincere, by every one
Of sentient soul; who then, took cognizance
Of every thought which beamed upon his face,
And rose above the summit and high mount—
Olympic of his heart, blown by the gale
And tempest, from the mountain of his love.
They sat, as seemed, embowered by the rose,
And thymy chambers of the Eden fair,
Of all their joys. He held her hand, as seemed,
And trembled as he spoke within himself,
To which, his soul gave audience sincere,
And signed the manumission of his vows,
With apex of his heart of love; and not
One word proceeded from his lips; for cords
Of love had fettered fast the warbler sweat,
Of all his thoughts; and thus, manacled fast,
They sat and read on forehead of their dawn,
Those pure iambics of the soul, which danced
Beside the strings of Orphican Lyre; and
Rolled its anthema o'er the thought; that felt fond
Nature's thrills burst through with flames eternal,
That no tongue can tell, or mortal ever
Speak; save those who often feel the billows
Shoreless roll, across the sentient soul; where
All the feelings, so precious in our lives,
And all those thrills so costly in our pain,
Arise; one with joy and the other woe!

A cloud came o'er the vision of my dream.
It seemed, that from the garden of their love,
They went,—the Boy to reap the same that springs
From actions wise, of earth, while She, the boon
And object of his future life, his joy—
His spouse, his hope, his ever new delight,
His idol morn and even—the spring of all
His joys, his dove, the radiant sun of love,
That shone upon the mountain of his thoughts,
And vivified his heart—returned in joy,
To rural quietude, with heart sincere,
Which rolled its billows—tender waves, across
The ocean of her soul, and prophecied
New coming days of sweet delight and joy.

A cloud came oer the vision of my dream.
They met beside the bower of love and joy,
While fragrance sweet, of love and bliss, smiling far
Brighter then than ever did before his eyes;
When, by a rill that rippled down the vale
In tones of joy, they sat, and mused alone,
Far from the sight of mortal man, save eye
Of Him, the All-perceiving eye of God.
Their loves were mutual,—they paid their vows
Sincere; and while her head thus leaned upon
His breast, she heard loud waves within his heart,
His bosom's lord of life; and on fond tablet
Of his heart, moved by the carmine stream, dear
Stream of all his joys, he stamped his tender
[illeg.]d assignations, with the ink, drawn
From the fountain head of life and love,—then
Blooming on his carmine cheek,—the sweetest
Affirmations of his pure, untainted
Love, that ever came from out his soul; dear
Soul! the spring head of his life, his love, and
Sweet felicity. He held her hand, as
Seemed, and from his eye, that sparkled with
Fond fires of love, as he looked far beyond
The mountain of his joys, his future days
Of bliss, and not a single tear did flow;
But, as he pressed her to his breast, as tests
And confirmations strong, that he had on
The tablet of his heart then written, such
Fond words that mortal man dare utter, then
They kissed each other's lips of carmine hue,
And tears, as they retired, fell from their eyes.

A cloud came o'er the vision of my dream.
The youth retired with absence' dart deep plunged
In apex of his heart, to native home.
The maid, voluptuous, retired to rural
Avocations—joys, with hope fast by her
Side, that told her days, and months, and years, close
On the brink of future streams of time, when
She should reap her harvests, sweeter to her
Soul, than all things else beneath the sun. They
Met again, with mutual smiles and kisses
Sweet, and dear, beside the basis of a
Hill, which saw a thousand years revolve; and
Sat beneath a yew which spread umbrageous
Boughs, both far and wide, which kept from off their
Heads, the shining sun, then towering in its
Might above the sky. They mused—oft felt sweet
Thrills and throbs which spring from out the fount, dear,
Unmolested fount of love, and sweetest
Reservoir of life, and kissed, and smiled sweet
Smiles, that beamed in lights divine. For all, save
Her, the nightingale by night, and lark, sweet
Lark of morn, were nought to him. For she
Had shone with sun of love upon the mount—
High Atlas of his soul, till all the beams
Which come from out the disk of matrons sweet,
Besides, became obscured, and veiled their light,
As sure submission to superior power.
She was his pilot and his polar star—
His compass o'er the ocean of his life.
In future days, none stood before his eyes
At morning, noon, and even, day and night, save
Her, the Helen of his soul. She filled his
Soul, enamored with delight. She stood as
Vesper to his soul at midnight of his
Sleep. She walked voluptuously before
His face, at midnight hour of the night, when
God, the All-perceiving eye of heaven, with
Spirits of celestial make descended,
Sat and smiled, and hovered round his youthful soul,
And bathed it in the well of buoyant life.

A cloud came o'er the vision of my dream.
The youthful boy and maid, retired as wont,
Again to their respective homes of joy.
But soon, he felt the power of absence so
Severe, his heart then caught anew on fire,
He left his home, his father, mother dear—
Sad words! and sought his blessings in the arms
Of her, whose hand he held—the partner dear,
Of all his future life, of joy and bliss.

A cloud came o'er the vision of my dream.
He wept. He met, as they had said, and all
Approved the joy, such as filled the youthful
Soul; when by an aged man they stood, while
He, equipped with delegated power, tied
The Gordian knot, for which they often paid
Their mutual vows; and signed the mission
With the signature of love unequalled;
And unparalleled of joy and bliss;—sweet
Hope of future bliss. They joyed in those smiles
That sat upon the carmine cheek of mirth,
And gloried in the youthful hour, traced them back
To subsequent events, when first they caught
Each other's looks, that beamed with sun of love,
Which came from out the tender breast,—then forced
By tempest of the soul. They lived, as seemed,
In joy, in bliss, and both their souls seemed fired
With beams of evertasting love and joy.—
Vocation, such as none said aught about,
Illuminated all their paths of fear.
Their cup of Hymen overflowed of sweets,
Like nectar to the soul. They ate in joy,
Drank deep droughts of bliss, early rose, and rose
In joy and delight; and blessings crowned their
Wantoned life with sweets superlative,—sweets,
Much dearer to the soul, than ever words
Can tell, or man's imagination grasp.

A cloud came o'er the vision of my dream.
And O! what sorrows filled the youthful heart;
When from his home, a fiend, a cursed fiend,
Of dire perdition, stole the partner dear,
Of all his youthful life, and future days;
And left him like a bark on ruthless tide,
Of disappointment dire, exposed to all
The winds and rains of heaven, to mourn, and weep,
And murmur, and repine his loss, great loss!
The blessed jewel to his soul, the pearl,—
The richest gift of earth, was taken from
His home while he was gone, which broke the cord,
The threefold cord, the web of which, was spun
By fingers of omnipotence and love.

A cloud came o'er the vision of my dream.
The youth and maiden then, who often smiled,
And lay entwined in other's arms, remained
Apart unpedigreed, unplumed, and rest
Of all the social joys of life, that beamed
Upon the forehead of their dawn. Sad days
They were! which terminated all their joys.
They stole her by persuasive words, as seemed,
And made the maid believe that all they told,
Was truth sincere; till, like a flower in field
Of bliss triumphant, so was the root, dear
Root of joy nipped, to fall and rot to dust.
She left his home and never more returned!
For all, he importuned and plead so oft.
She chose to mourn, and weep, and pine away,
Instead of reaping harvests, ripe of bliss.

A cloud came o'er the vision of my dream.
The maid remained far from his home, in woe!
In garb of widowhood she sat and gazed
Afar, like one forlorn in wretchedness!
If pain and woe! with but an infant dear
Within her arms, to weep, and gather from
This thorny wild of earth—vexation deep,
And sorrow, pain, and woe, unmatched. She did
Not yet return, but heeded to their lies!—
Dread utterance of the tongue! that made vile
Devils blush to hear it told, in fairest,
Most respectful garb it wore. She wandered
Voluntarily in seeming garb, to break
His tender heart, with babe to hear her sigh,—
Which soon did answer her in tones of woe!

A cloud came o'er the vision of my dream.
She did not yet return, nor ever did!
And from his home, the youth then went, but soon
Returned to take her to his arms; but she
Remained a voluntary exile, far
From his sight; and would not let him see his
Dearest child, then born unto his name. She
Did not yet return. She then began, like
All things else beneath the sun, to fade! yea,
Fade before his eyes, when, as it seemed, he
Saw another, brighter to his soul than she
Had ever been, who cast the lightning's spark
Of love sincere, and roused him like a flame
Of unrequited love. He loved her as
He loved his life. No tongue can tell, how he,
In midst of all his woes, returned the look
Of fond affection, that he knew arose
From out the centre of her sentient heart.

A cloud came o'er the vision of my dream.
He wept! because the law had held him fast
To her, the apostacy of all his joys,
And would not let him woo another, though
His life concentered all its feelings there.
She was the being of his soul—his all,
And more than earth could give besides. He kissed
Her tender lips, and wept! and told her oft,
About his youth,—about his joys, and, his
Pangs of grief! which broke the prospects, dearer
To his soul, than all besides on earth. He
Felt the rousings of the heart, which had often
Felt vile sorrows dart. She pressed him fondly
To her breast, and down upon his cheek, she
Dropped the surest test of love, which come from
Founts of woe. He told her oft of home, sweet,
Youthful home, and of a day when she should
Weep; and when he thus should kiss her sweetest
Lips, perhaps, to meet no more! He pressed her
To his breast with fond tears, when I awoke.