Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! 
My spirit not awakening, till the beam 
Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. 
Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, '
Twere better than the cold reality 
Of waking life, to him whose heart must be, 
And hath been still, upon the lovely earth, 
A chaos of deep passion, from his birth. 
But should it be - that dream eternally 
Continuing - as dreams have been to me 
In my young boyhood - should it thus be given, '
Twere folly still to hope for higher 
Heaven. For 
I have revell'd, when the sun was bright 
I' the summer sky, in dreams of living light 
And loveliness, - have left my very heart 
In climes of my imagining, apart 
From mine own home, with beings that have been 
Of mine own thought - what more could 
I have seen? '
Twas once - and only once - and the wild hour 
From my remembrance shall not pass - some power 
Or spell had bound me - 'twas the chilly wind 
Came o'er me in the night, and left behind 
Its image on my spirit - or the moon 
Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon 
Too coldly - or the stars - howe'er it was 
That dream was as that night-wind - let it pass. 
I have been happy, tho' in a dream. 
I have been happy - and 
I love the theme: 
Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life, 
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife 
Of semblance with reality, which brings 
To the delirious eye, more lovely things 
Of Paradise and 
Love - and all our own! 
Than young 
Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.