Poems (Dodd)/The Dreamer
For works with similar titles, see The Dreamer.
THE DREAMER.
"A dark, cold calm which nothing now can break,Or warm, or brighten,—like that Syrian lake,Upon whose surface, morn and summer shedTheir smiles in vain, for all beneath is dead."
Soul of mine, why art thou dreaming? Dreaming ever through the day!While life's precious hours are wasting, Fast and unimproved away.
With a world of beauty round me, Lone and sad, I dwell apart;Changing scenes can bring no pleasure To this wrecked and worn-out heart.
Now I tempt the quiet ocean, While the sky is bright above,And the sun-light rests around me, Like the beaming smile of love:
Or by waters softly flowing Through the vale, I wander now,And the balmy breath of summer, Fans my cheek and cools my brow.
But as well, to me, might darken Over all the gloom of night;For no quick and sweet sensations, Fill my soul with new delight.
In the grass-grown, silent church-yard, With a listless step, I rove;But I shed no tear of sorrow, By the graves of those I love.
Could I weep, the spell might vanish;. Tears would bring my heart relief;Heart so sealed to all emotion, Dead alike to joy and grief.
When the storm that shook my spirit, Left its mission finished there,Then a calm more fearful followed Than the wildness of despair.
Whence the spell that chills my being? Bidding every passion cease,Closing every fount of feeling, Say, my spirit, is it peace?
Wake! O, spell-bound soul, awaken, Bid this sad delusion flee!Such a lengthened dream is fearful; Such a peace is not for thee.
Life is thine, and "life is earnest;" Toil and grief thou canst not shun;But be hopeful and believing, Till the prize of faith is won.
Then the peace thou shalt inherit, By the Saviour promised free;Peace, the world destroyeth never, Father, give that peace to me!