A Dream

  In visions of the dark night
    I have dreamed of joy departed--
  But a waking dream of life and light
    Hath left me broken-hearted.

  Ah! what is not a dream by day
    To him whose eyes are cast
  On things around him with a ray
    Turned back upon the past?

  That holy dream--that holy dream,
    While all the world were chiding,
  Hath cheered me as a lovely beam,
    A lonely spirit guiding.

  What though that light, thro' storm and night,
    So trembled from afar--
  What could there be more purely bright
    In Truth's day star?


1837.





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        Edgar Allan Poe