I dreamed a dream--and still upon my mind
The image of that dream, on Memory's page
Inscribed in letters large and legible,
Rests vivid as the lightning's scathing flash.
Beneath a spreading oak, that towered high
And lone upon a hillock's grassy plot,
A Maiden stood--and by her side a Youth,
Whose summers did, tho' few, outnumber hers;
And _she_ was beautiful as rainbow tints--
Her voice, like sweetest music borne upon
The bosom of some gentle breeze far o'er
The hushed and silent waters of the deep--
Her breath, like fragrant odors from the lap
Of Flora sent, when Morning's blush appears--
Her heart, the home where wild affections dwelt--
Her mind, of intellectual power the seat--
Her eye, the mirror to her speaking soul!
Upon her marble brow was set the seal
Of _Dignity_--and in her slender form
Were blended grace and perfect symmetry.
The Youth was tall, erect--but unlike her
In all things save affection's swelling tide:
Unknowing of the bright and quenchless fire,
At Beauty's altar lit, that constant burned
Within his bosom's deep recess, the world
Had deemed him changeful as the fitful wind.
Silent they were, and round them silence reigned:
Above, the clear blue ether spread her veil,
And by them swept the gentle, fresh'ning breeze
That cooled the burning temples of the one,
The flowing tresses of the other waved.
Beneath them was a wide spread plain, o'er which
The full Moon poured her streams of silver light,
And in a flood of glory bathed both plain
And rugged cliffs that wildly rose beyond.
Upon that lovely scene the maiden looked
That joy and stillness breathed into her heart;
But he that meeting, had not sought to gaze
On landscapes, living though they were. He saw
But her whose form before him rose, so bright,
So beautiful, that all else faded from {32}
The view: He heard no sound save that alone
Which from his beating heart was sent: and oft
He did essay to breathe the hallowed thoughts
That in his bosom long had slept--the pent-
Up fountains of his love to ope; but oft
In vain, 'till faltering accents came at last,
And told the feelings of his inmost soul.
But _she_ was calm; no falling of the eye--
No heightened color's tinge--no trembling of
That silver voice, spoke aught of passion there.
Yet kindness breathed in every word that fell
From off her Angel lips--and told that though
Her heart with his beat not in unison,
It still could feel for sorrows not its own.
Though soft, like breath of pois'nous Simoom came
Her voice. Young Hope her dewy pinions shook,
And as she winged her airy flight away,
Came casking Care her place to fill. And yet
A moment's space he lingered there; and as
Upon her saddened face he once again
Did look with mingled feelings, inly swore
To perish ere his love should fade and die.
And she did pensive turn her steps along
Their homeward way, again to be the life,
The light, the chiefest joy of all around.