Poems (Cook)/Day Dreams
DAY DREAMS.
We are too apt to denounce as Folly much that belongs to the exquisitely Spiritual and Imaginative, and the highest pleasures of the highest natures may be said to resolve themselves into what are termed by the hard, cold worldling—'day dreams.'"
Day Dreams, loved Day Dreams! still be mine,
Though wise ones mock the dreamer's breast;
Wisdom may press with serpent twine,
Till the crush'd spirit moans for rest.
Though wise ones mock the dreamer's breast;
Wisdom may press with serpent twine,
Till the crush'd spirit moans for rest.
Though air-piled castles may not hold
The wealth that Man so fiercely craves;
Yet, is there no bright stuff but gold?
No mortals rich but Mammon's slaves?
The wealth that Man so fiercely craves;
Yet, is there no bright stuff but gold?
No mortals rich but Mammon's slaves?
We know our brains are oft entranced
By spells that weaken while they bind;
And where our fairy hopes have danced,
Some wither'd rings are left behind.
By spells that weaken while they bind;
And where our fairy hopes have danced,
Some wither'd rings are left behind.
Perchance the pearl we treasure up
As Life's most dear and darling prize,
Falls in some deadly acid cup,
And melts before our weeping eyes.
As Life's most dear and darling prize,
Falls in some deadly acid cup,
And melts before our weeping eyes.
Even Love's torch may sorely scorch—
The fruit we pined for bring the asp;
And Fancy's wand, snatch'd from our hand,
Be broken short in Reason's grasp.
The fruit we pined for bring the asp;
And Fancy's wand, snatch'd from our hand,
Be broken short in Reason's grasp.
Yet who would spurn the starry bloom
That cheers the tangled path we tread;
Because some blight may chance to light
Upon the flowers, and lay them dead?
That cheers the tangled path we tread;
Because some blight may chance to light
Upon the flowers, and lay them dead?
Day Dreams! ye've ever been to me
God-sparks to warm my earthly clay;
Ye've been the leaves upon my tree,
That Winter could not sweep away.
God-sparks to warm my earthly clay;
Ye've been the leaves upon my tree,
That Winter could not sweep away.
Ye've been the blessed, phantom things,
That sung wild music in mine ear;
And freely lent me angel's wings,
To seek awhile a rarer sphere.
That sung wild music in mine ear;
And freely lent me angel's wings,
To seek awhile a rarer sphere.
Day Dreams! ye came all thick and fair,
When I went hunting down the bee;
And fresh and beautiful ye were,
As ripples on a moonlit sea.
When I went hunting down the bee;
And fresh and beautiful ye were,
As ripples on a moonlit sea.
And still ye haunt me, still I meet
The vision joys that then I met;
My quickest, fullest pulses beat;
A child-a fool-a dotard yet.
The vision joys that then I met;
My quickest, fullest pulses beat;
A child-a fool-a dotard yet.
Ah may ye ever claim my soul;
I could not live in stagnant thrall:
Better to start for wisp-light goal,
Than run no spirit-race at all.
I could not live in stagnant thrall:
Better to start for wisp-light goal,
Than run no spirit-race at all.
Up! though I tread a dazzling ridge,
"Excelsior" is a noble shout;
I'd climb on any rainbow bridge,
To let my heart look farther out.
"Excelsior" is a noble shout;
I'd climb on any rainbow bridge,
To let my heart look farther out.
Day Dreams! bright Day Dreams! still be mine;
And though Life's darkest clouds abound,
'Tis bliss to know that ye will shine,
And fling your silver edges round.
And though Life's darkest clouds abound,
'Tis bliss to know that ye will shine,
And fling your silver edges round.