The Poems of John Clare :: :: University of Virginia Library

My dream began in bliss and lifted high
My sleeping feelings into fancy's joy;
Though like one wandering in a sweet far land
I seemed to hear and could not understand
Among the many voices humming by,
Nor knew one face where many met my eye.
That dim-seen mystery which in dreams appears
Was mine, a feeling of joy, hopes, and fears,
Mingling together; yet I knew not why,
Where all was beauty, trouble should be by.
The place was light—and yet no sun was there
To cause it—pale and beautifully fair,
Nor glare nor gloom but like eternity
Mild, like what spirits may expect to see;
But there was earth and sky and trees and flowers,
Different in kind and yet resembling ours;
And mightiest objects that the eye surveyed,
No light they clouded and they cast no shade;
But in that sky no cloud crossed east and west,
No storm crept frowning o'er its crystal rest.

At length a mighty mansion gathered high,
Whose bounds seemed almost boundless to the eye,
A place that wakened fancy's wonders there,
As mystery's mask left half her shadow bare;
A shapeless shape and semblance faint of things
That earth calls palaces, the place of kings.
Here all seemed entering; yet there was no crowd,
No anxious rushing, and no noises loud.
All seemed intent on matters yet unknown,
And every other's interest seemed their own,
Like as a brook pursues its gliding way,
Urged by an impulse which they could not stay.
Fear shrank to silence now and hovered round,
Till wandering steps seemed listening for their sound.

405

Restless as waves in their eternal race,
Where one crowd passed another took its place.
The gathering throngs that seemed to make one spot,
I seemed to know some and then knew them not;
Some more familiar seemed; I turned again
And they were strange and left a lonely pain;
And other eyes on my inquiries came
And seemed they knew me, but to feel the same;
As birds seek nests which idle boys have got,
They sought what had been and they found it not;
What memory's shadows dimly might display—
Friends, loves, and kin—found none and turned away.
At length one singled from the mighty throng
Where I had gazed on vacant looks so long,
With flowing robes, blue eyes, and face divine,
Came forth and fixed her tender gaze on mine.
It looked familiar as I'd seen the same;
But recollections of her earthly name
Were lost, if e'er she had a claim to one;
She joined my steps and seemed to lead me on.
We entered with the rest, and by my side
She stood, my all companion, friend, and guide.
Arches empillared like the rainbow's height
Went sweeping up and almost left the sight;
And yet o'er them a covering met the eye,
As earth seems covered with surrounding sky.
At last the silence with a murmur broke
Like the first hum when organs are awoke,
And every face seemed turned towards the sound
Where hope would soothe and mystery would confound;
Fate seemed as writing upon every brow
A fearful question, ‘Who'll be summoned now?’
Yet woman seemed (though beauty's face beguiles
One's heart to favour) checking fears with smiles;
And my companion seated by my side
Seemed checking mine and strove her own to hide;
Her long white hand pressed mine with cheering power
As offering safety in a dangerous hour;
She looked and spake not yet, her lips the while

406

Closed mid the tumult in a timid smile;
And as the mystery waking gathered near,
Looked as one dares a danger, ‘Never fear.’
More loud the music rose and yet more loud
Chorused with humming of a mighty crowd;
And through the mild light that at first clothed all
A brighter streamed, like sunbeams on a wall,
Growing more bright and losing it away
Like creeping sunrise on a summer's day;
A light that dazzled not, and yet it threw
Around o'erpowering splendour as it grew;
More high the music seemed, more strong the fear,
And awful symptoms rousing gathered near;
Voices awoke from many a troubling tongue,
But no words came distinctly from the throng;
Fears grew within me, and I fain had tried
To search the purpose of my angel guide.
Anxiety turned on her quiet face,
And recollections would [old] memories trace,
As one I'd witnessed once or else the same,
The looks of one I had not power to name;
She seemed at first as living beauty seems,
Then changed more lovely in the shade of dreams;
Then faded dim, confused, and hurrying by
Like memory waning into vacancy.
The music rose in terror's ecstasies,
In gradual swells like winds in summer trees,
Gathering and gathering to its highest bound,
And burst at last in mystery's mightiest sound.

Millions of hopes, hung on a spider's tie
'Tween time's suspense and fate's eternity,
Seemed cut at once, and all around the host
Felt at that moment if his own was lost;
And in a moment sudden changes rang
Confusion's uproar—discord's jarring clang,
Harsh noises, stunning crush, and thrilling yell,
As the whole mansion on their shoulders fell.
A light glowed round with horror's staggering sound,

407

And all seemed giddy, reeling, sinking round;
A weight plopt on me with a sudden crush,
A noise like waters that for freedom rush;
I could not move, nor speak; yet reason's power
Seemed wide awake in that spell-prisoning hour;
I felt as tried, whate'er the lot might be,
And strove and struggled with my destiny;
And then my eyes in hopeless wandering spied
That lovely shadow which had been my guide,
Seemly bent o'er me, offering mercy's plea,
'Tween death's dark hell and life's eternity.
Her face grew pale and awful, yet a shade
Of beauty hung in every change it made.
Her eyes o'er mine hung beautiful and bright,
Like the sun setting upon deepening night;
And love, fear, hope—all mortals can recall—
I felt none separate, but I felt them all.
Her white round arms threw back her streaming hair,
And smiles hung o'er me as in death's despair.

Something drew near me and my guide withdrew,
Beauteous as ever but in terror too;
Her bright eyes lessened dim but not with tears,
Heavy with sorrows and the gloom of fears;
And scarce I turned her desert flight to trace
Ere a foul fiend seemed standing in her place.
'Twas Mary's voice that hung in her farewell;
The sound that moment on my memory fell—
A sound that held the music of the past;
But she was blest and I alone was cast;
My dangers dimmed the glory of her eyes,
And turned her smiling and her hopes to sighs.
The gloomiest pictures fear could ever make,
The fiend drew near to make my terrors ache—
Huge circles lost to eyes, and rotten hulls
Raised with dead groans from the dread ‘place of skulls’,—
Then turned with horrid laugh its haggard head
To where the earth-loved shadow dimly fled,
As mockery—waking hell with horrid sound

408

Like many murmurs moving underground.
I shuddering struggled from his horrid glare
And snapped my bonds and ended my despair,
And—as woke reason from the vision crept,
She seemed to start as one that ne'er had slept;
Horror and joy and mystery when by
Seemed less of vision than reality,
A nightmare mystery of a sealing doom,
A feeble picture of the dread to come.

I wish to acknowledge that whatsoever merit this and The Dream may be thought to possess they owe it in part to the English Opium Eater, as they were written after (though actual dreams) the perusal of that singular and interesting production.