I dreamed <br />A dream of you, <br />Not as you seemed <br />When you were late unkind <br />And blind <br />To my eyes' pleading for a debt long due, <br />But touched and true <br />And all inclined <br />To tenderest fancies on love's inmost theme. <br />How sweet you were to me and ah, how kind <br />In that dear dream! <br /> <br />I felt <br />Your lips on mine <br />Mingle and melt, <br />And your cheek touch my cheek. <br />I, weak <br />With vain desires and askings for a sign <br />Of love divine, <br />Found my grief break, <br />And wept and wept in an unending stream <br />Of sudden joy set free, yet could not speak, <br />Dumb in my dream. <br /> <br />I knew <br />You loved me then, <br />And I knew too <br />The bliss of souls in Heaven <br />New--shriven, <br />Who look with pity on still sinning men, <br />And turn again <br />To be forgiven <br />In the dear arms of their God holding them, <br />And spend themselves in praise from morn till even <br />Nor break their dream. <br /> <br />I woke <br />In my mid bliss, <br />At midnight's stroke, <br />And knew you lost and gone. <br />Forlorn <br />I called you back to my unfinished kiss, <br />But only this <br />One word of scorn <br />You answered me, ``'Twas better loved to seem <br />Than loved to be, since all love is forsworn, <br />Always a dream.''<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-dream-122/
