The Conservative (Lovecraft)/January 1916/The Horizon of Dreams

by Anne Tillery Renshaw

The Horizon of Dreams.

Afar on the rim and the edge of things,
Where the pearl seeds float and weep;
Where the wee cloud-mothers, with delicate wings
Flit over the mountains of sleep;
Afar down the valley where fancies drift
When the sun has shot his last beam
There lies a sweet realm just over the lift
Of the wave and the wonder of dream.

Afar on the rim and the edge of the moon
When the twilight has scatter'd her sheep,
When the tears of the night are found too soon
Just there where the dew drops deep:

Afar down the slope of the pale moon's rays
Where she scatter'd her jewels abroad,
Where all of your dreams were lost in the blaze
When she lifted herself from her load:
Afar down the stretch of the wonderful sea
Where the gold is a part of its gleam,
Lies the land of enchantment for you and for me
On the low sweet Horizon of Dream.

Anne Tillery Renshaw.