In the woods as I did walk, Dappled with the moon's beam, I did with a Stranger talk, And his name was Dream. Spurred his heel, dark his cloak, Shady-wide his bonnet's brim; His horse beneath a silvery oak Grazed as I talked with him. Softly his breast-brooch burned and shone; Hill and deep were in his eyes; One of his hands held mine, and one The fruit that makes men wise. Wondrously strange was earth to see, Flowers white as milk did gleam; Spread to Heaven the Assyrian Tree, Over my head with Dream. Dews were still betwixt us twain; Stars a trembling beauty shed; Yet, not a whisper comes again Of the words he said. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BOSTON COMMON: 1869 by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE THIRD DAY: AZRAEL by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW NORTHBOUN' by LUCY ARIEL WILLIAMS PSALM 117 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 42 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |