DREAMS OF HEAVEN.
“We colour Heaven with our own human thoughts,
Our vain aspirings, fond remembrances,
Our passionate love, that seems unto itself
An Immortality.”
Dream'st
thou of Heaven?—what dreams are thine?
Fair child, fair gladsome child?
With eyes that like the dewdrop shine,
And bounding footsteps wild!
Tell me what hues the immortal shore
Can wear, my bird! to thee?
Ere yet one shadow hath pass'd o'er
Thy glance and spirit free?
“Oh! beautiful is Heaven, and bright,
With long, long summer days;
I see its lilies gleam in light,
Where many a fountain plays.
“And there uncheck'd, methinks, I rove,
And seek where young flowers lie,
In vale and golden-fruited grove—
Flowers that are not to die!”
Thou poet of the lonely thought,
Sad heir of gifts divine!
Say with what solemn glory fraught,
Is heaven in dreams of thine?
“Oh! where the living waters flow
Along that radiant shore,
My soul, a wanderer here, shall know,
The exile thirst no more.
“The burden of the stranger's heart
Which here alone I bear,
Like the night-shadow shall depart,
With my first wakening there.
“And borne on eagle wings afar,
Free thought shall claim its dower,
From every realm, from every star,
Of glory and of power.”
O woman! with the soft sad eye,
Of spiritual gleam,
Tell me of those bright worlds on high,
How doth thy fond heart dream?
By thy sweet mournful voice I know,
On thy pale brow I see,
That thou hast loved, in fear, and woe—
Say what is Heaven to thee?
“Oh! Heaven is where no secret dread
May haunt love's meeting hour,
Where from the past no gloom is shed
O'er the heart's chosen bower:
“Where every sever'd wreath is bound—
Where none have heard the knell
That smites the heart with that deep sound—
Farewell—beloved, farewell!”
