WITH beating heart and lagging feet, Lord, I approach the Judgment-seat. All bring hither the fruits of toil, Measures of wheat and measures of oil ; Gold and jewels and precious wine ; No hands bare like these hands of mine. The treasure I have nor weighs nor gleams : Lord, I can bring you only dreams. In days of spring, when my blood ran high, I lay in the grass and looked at the sky, And dreamed that my love lay by my side -- My love was false, and then she died. All the heat of the summer through, I dreamed she lived, that her heart was true Throughout the hours of the day I slept, But woke in the night, at times, and wept. The nights and days, they went and came, I lay in shadow and dreamed of fame ; And heard men passing the lonely place, Who marked me not and my hidden face. My strength waxed faint, my hair grew grey ; Nothing but dreams by night and day. Some men sicken, with wine and food ; I starved on dreams, and found them good. Show the fellow the way to hell. This is the tale I have to tell -- | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VISION by GEORGE SANTAYANA SHE HEARS THE STORM by THOMAS HARDY A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO by CHARLES LAMB SUMMER NIGHT, RIVERSIDE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS GEORGE LEVISON OR, THE SCHOOLFELLOWS by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 11. LOVE WILL OUT by PHILIP AYRES |