94
THE PASSION OF A DREAM.
"Thy God is love, and I, that essence,
Distilled by his creating hand,
That wounded in the heart I conquer,
Within His breast a refuge claim."
Distilled by his creating hand,
That wounded in the heart I conquer,
Within His breast a refuge claim."
"Into thy being, Oh! sleeper there shall fall,
A drop of that celestial fire,
Quelling the fountains of unrest,
Watering the lilies of thy pure desire."
A drop of that celestial fire,
Quelling the fountains of unrest,
Watering the lilies of thy pure desire."
The vision passed, the night-dew falling,
Lay deep upon the heavy grass,
The fanlike stretch of blue above me,
Lay rifted where the pale moon passed.
Lay deep upon the heavy grass,
The fanlike stretch of blue above me,
Lay rifted where the pale moon passed.
I rose, my dreaming over-flowing,
The ebbing tides of my full heart,
I entered at the cottage gate,
And sat among the flowers apart.
The ebbing tides of my full heart,
I entered at the cottage gate,
And sat among the flowers apart.
******
The summer days into the autumn faded,
And still I lingered, wondering much,
What phantasy it was that held me,
That thralled with lightsome touch-
And still I lingered, wondering much,
What phantasy it was that held me,
That thralled with lightsome touch-
My heart, that now no longer free,
Lay fettered by that mighty power,
Lay fettered by that mighty power,
