LXXVII.

O Paradise! to waken from a dream,

A sleep-revealment of delights, and find

The rosy fancies, beauteous though they seem,

Reality, and in our fond arms twined;

Truth haloed by imagination's beam,

And heaven and earth in one sweet birth combined.

Thus Julian gazed upon her fainting form,

Robed for the grave yet with existence warm.

Eidolon; or, The Course of a Soul; and Other Poems · 第 132 / 176 题