University of Virginia Library


14

THE POET'S DREAM.

Fair-fortuned ship,
Whose white sails fade and dip
Below the sea-line where our sight must stay;
With hope how fond
We yearn for the Beyond,
Where thou art sailing as in common day!
Yet know'st thou not
Thine all-desired lot,
To pass the prison-barriers of our eyes,
And sail serene
The world no eye hath seen,
The unknown Heaven to which Creation sighs.
About thy prow
I know what Nereids now
Are dancing, wreathed with rainbows of the foam.
Thy sailors' eyes
See nought but sea and skies,
And darkening water-paths that lead from home.

15

I too, who wait
As one without the gate,
Do I not here and now some place inherit
That other eyes
Look to as Paradise,
The Eden of some other banished spirit?
So blank to me,
This very street may be
A golden highway of Jerusalem,
Where hosts unseen
Fill all the space between,
And I not hear the softest plume of them!
Thank God for dreams!
If earth were what it seems,
And nought the rainbow, nought the nightingale,
I'd rather be
The dumb beast, feeding free,
Than watch with human eyes yon dwindling sail.