AT night, in my dream, I stoutly climbed a mountain, Going out alone with my staff of holly-wood. A thousand crags, a hundred hundred valleys -- In my dream-journey none were unexplored And all the while my feet never grew tired And my step was as strong as in my young days. Can it be that when the mind travels backward The body also returns to its old state? And can it be, as between body and soul, That the body may languish, while the soul is still strong? Soul and body -- both are vanities: Dreaming and waking -- both alike unreal. In the day my feet are palsied and tottering; In the night my steps go striding over the hills. As day and night are divided in equal parts -- Between the two, I @3get@1 as much as I @3lose@1. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MUSICAL INSTRUMENT by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ESCAPE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: COMMON FORM by RUDYARD KIPLING THE LITTLE OLD WOMEN; TO VICTOR HUGO by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE ON HAPPY WOMEN by MARY D. CAIN A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 15 by THOMAS CAMPION THE GARDENER'S CAT by PATRICK REGINALD CHALMERS |