Edgar Allan Poe - DREAMS

OH! that my young life were a lasting
       dream!
My spirit not awakening, till the beam
Of an Eternity should bring the mor-
       row.
Yes! though 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 revelled when the sun was
       bright
I' the summer sky, in dreams of leaving
       light
And loveliness,--have left my very
       heart
Inclines of my imaginary apart
From mine own home, with beings that
       have been
Of my 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 that night-wind--
       let it pass.
I have been happy, though in a dream.
I have been happy--and I love the
       theme:
Dreams! in their vivid colouring of
       life
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty
       strife
Of semblance with reality which brings
To delirious eve, more lovely things
Of Paradise and Love--and all my
       own!--
Than young Hope in his sunniest hour
       hath known.

Edgar Allan Poe

.