A Day Dream
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- On a sunny brae alone I lay
- One summer afternoon;
- It was the marriage-time of May,
- With her young lover, June.
- From her mother's heart seemed loath to part
- That queen of bridal charms,
- But her father smiled on the fairest child
- He ever held in his arms.
- The trees did wave their plumy crests,
- The glad birds carolled clear;
- And I, of all the wedding guests,
- Was only sullen there!
- There was not one, but wished to shun
- My aspect void of cheer;
- The very gray rocks, looking on,
- Asked, "What do you here?"
- And I could utter no reply;
- In sooth, I did not know
- Why I had brought a clouded eye
- To greet the general glow.
- So, resting on a heathy bank,
- I took my heart to me;
- And we together sadly sank
- Into a reverie.
- We thought, "When winter comes again,
- Where will these bright things be?
- All vanished, like a vision vain,
- An unreal mockery!
- "The birds that now so blithely sing,
- Through deserts, frozen dry,
- Poor spectres of the perished spring,
- In famished troops will fly.
- "And why should we be glad at all?
- The leaf is hardly green,
- Before a token of its fall
- Is on the surface seen!"
- Now, whether it were really so,
- I never could be sure;
- But as in fit of peevish woe,
- I stretched me on the moor,
- A thousand thousand gleaming fires
- Seemed kindling in the air;
- A thousand thousand silvery lyres
- Resounded far and near:
- Methought, the very breath I breathed
- Was full of sparks divine,
- And all my heather-couch was wreathed
- By that celestial shine!
- And, while the wide earth echoing rung
- To that strange minstrelsy
- The little glittering spirits sung,
- Or seemed to sing, to me:
- "O mortal! mortal! let them die;
- Let time and tears destroy,
- That we may overflow the sky
- With universal joy!
- "Let grief distract the sufferer's breast,
- And night obscure his way;
- They hasten him to endless rest,
- And everlasting day.
- "To thee the world is like a tomb,
- A desert's naked shore;
- To us, in unimagined bloom,
- It brightens more and more!
- "And, could we lift the veil, and give
- One brief glimpse to thine eye,
- Thou wouldst rejoice for those that live,
- BECAUSE they live to die."
- The music ceased; the noonday dream,
- Like dream of night, withdrew;
- But Fancy, still, will sometimes deem
- Her fond creation true.
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