A NOON-DAY DREAM.
(INSCRIBED TO THE M. D. R.'S OF GALVESTON.)
It was a warm, fresh day in early spring; The sun sent drifts of golden glory down,As though the wealth of Heaven he sought to fling, With lavish hand, upon earth's floral crown.Beneath the oleander's budding bloom Upon a couch of velvet moss I lay,My senses steeped in softened sweet perfume, Until I slept and dreamed at noon of day.
I slept, and in my dream before me passed A pageant, glittering, grand, and purely white,As falls of snow from Arctic heavens cast— So grand, so dazzling to my raptured sight.While music swelled upon the throbbing air, And men in royal robes rode proudly onTheir gallant steeds, with housings deadly fair, Each helmet down, each visor closely drawn.
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