The Night I Dreamed


ONCE I wandered
In the valley of a dream,
By the margin of a stream
As it slid with glance and gleam
By the tall rush and the reed.
On each side the dewy mead
Kissed the water in its speed
O’er the plain and through the hill
To the sea where it would spill.
So I followed where the rill
All meandered.

She approached me;
One in clinging vestments white,
Ghostly, eery in the night,
Silvered by the pale moonlight;
Sadly gazed into my face
With a look of tender grace;
Then she spake, I heard her not.
Saw her lips move, knew not what
She was saying, knew but that
She reproached me.

The she vanished
In that valley of my dream,
From the margin of the stream,
Vanished quickly as she came.
I awoke, eyes wet with dew –
Were they we with tears for you?
For that vision maid I knew,
Know when I had oped my eyes
On the morning’s yellowing skies,
Knew she was the fairest prize
I had cherished.

She had seemed
To pine, that flower I held so fair,
None so lovely, none so rare,
That at last a great despair
Welled in me. I could not cry;
I could not stay to see her die;
I left her without one good-bye!
Could I see her stiff and still?
No, ‘twere best my love to kill;
And so I ever thought until
The night I dreamed.

29. 1. 1928