Poems (Hazlett-Bevis)/It Comes in my Dreams

by Sophia Courtoulde Hazlett-Bevis

It Comes in my Dreams.

It comes in my dreams, a spot so fair,
 All lambent light and shade;
A hush of peace through the fragrant air,
 A beauty that ne'er can fade.

A spot so pure, with verdure green,
 Set apart from all below;
Its loveliness none but I have seen,
 And He who hath made, I know.

There are pictured rocks, and shelving shore.
 And waters with tints of gems;
Rythms of praise, floating o'er and o'er,
 With touch of the Master's hems.

The leaves of the trees have a rustle soft,
 Like music from spheres unknown,
And the warble of birds is heard so oft
 In magic waves of tone.

The flowers that bloom on this fertile spot,
 None ever were seen before;
Their color and fragrance more rare, I wot,
 Than any this earth e'er bore.

The sunlight is softened, the sky so blue,
 The heart sings for gladness and joy;
There is nothing here but is pure and true,
 No taint of this world's alloy.

It comes in my dreams, this beautiful place,
 Where love is the crowning charm,
And kindness and sympathy serve to chase
 Away all deeds of harm.

There's nought that can tire, only to please,
 In these beautiful dreams of mine;
Dreams that bring rest and perfect ease,
 To finish the day's decline.