Irene's Dream
My last strength has been spent in filling up
As to unseen dictation—for I feel
As if it were my hand, not I, that wrote
In hurried words the outline of my dream,
Such as may faintly render it to you—
But oh, how faintly!"
So she said and died,
As to unseen dictation—for I feel
As if it were my hand, not I, that wrote
In hurried words the outline of my dream,
Such as may faintly render it to you—
But oh, how faintly!"
So she said and died,
II.—THE DREAM
This and the following Scenes must be supposed to be the record, unconsciously made by Irene, of what further happened in her dream.
Song of the Fairies
We servants of the myriad Federation,
The sweet ascending scale of linked life,—
How long shall we 'gainst man's rude domination,
With harsh defacement rife,
Array our things of beauty in a fruitless strife?
The sweet ascending scale of linked life,—
How long shall we 'gainst man's rude domination,
With harsh defacement rife,
Array our things of beauty in a fruitless strife?
For ever as the alien soul of Man,
Still the one discord in our harmony,
Breaks in on the just balance of the plan
That our sweet world lives by—
Once happy as its fellows in yon infinite sky.
Still the one discord in our harmony,
Breaks in on the just balance of the plan
That our sweet world lives by—
Once happy as its fellows in yon infinite sky.
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