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A DREAM OF LIFE.
And he, the bard, whose starry splendor, Charmed lone hearts, into life anew,Who filled with passion, pure and holy, Each soul, and made Love's promise true.Stood, holding in his snowy hand, The harp of his entrancing power,Then vanished into the dim forever, And Earth, and Fame knew him no more.
And one whose gift of fadeless beauty, Lit the dull canvas with the glow,Of inspiration, great and noble, Who "mirrored Heaven in a face below,"Stood, crowned with glorious bays before me, Fame's mightly seal upon his brow,Till down the labyrinth of the ages; He passed 'neath Life's dull sunset glow.
And last, with strains of music flowing, 'Round him, like balmy breezes blown,Whose touch could wake the world to glory, O'er harp, or lute-string thrown,Stood he, the minstrel's fond ideal, Who homage held, of queen and king,A fading vision, dimly shadowed, His brow, and broke the trembling string.
Then cried I, in deep voice of sorrow, Have all Earth's great and holy passed away,What hope holds forth the dim to morrow, To strive along the toilsome way,
