PROEM.
Some poet dreams come to the soul
In mystic beauty clad,
Unearthly in their loveliness,
So exquisitely sad.
Shadowy and dim and cloud-like things
Floating about on unseen wings,
They tremble on our sight;
As in our nightly visions come
Pale spirits from their starry home,
To vanish with the light,
And by the waking heart forgot,
E'en as a rose remembers not,
In sunshine rich and warm,
The moonbeams that through night's long hours
Came still and cold, in silver showers,
Upon her slumbering form.
Some poet dreams come to the soul
In mystic beauty clad,
Unearthly in their loveliness,
So exquisitely sad.
Shadowy and dim and cloud-like things
Floating about on unseen wings,
They tremble on our sight;
As in our nightly visions come
Pale spirits from their starry home,
To vanish with the light,
And by the waking heart forgot,
E'en as a rose remembers not,
In sunshine rich and warm,
The moonbeams that through night's long hours
Came still and cold, in silver showers,
Upon her slumbering form.
