Last night a melancholy dream Pursued me down the gulphs of sleep, Like some great bird that flits a-gleam In a ship's wake on the lone deep. One of those dreams it was so sweet, And subtly sad, that when I woke, And rose, and went into the street, I dreamt although I moved and spoke: I dreamt although my hands and brain Were busy in the jarring noon; I dreamt till night came round again, And now I dream, watching the moon. Oh for the joy that might have been, Oh for the joy that shall not be, And that which thou hast never seen, And that which thou mayst never see! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WILD HONEYSUCKLE by PHILIP FRENEAU IN YOUTH IS PLEASURE by ROBERT WEVER A PICTURE AT NEWSTEAD by MATTHEW ARNOLD A WRECKED LOCOMOTIVE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE RESURRECTION OF THE BODY by WITTER BYNNER SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN: 94 by BLISS CARMAN |