A Dream by Edgar Allan Poe (1849)
In visions of the dark night
I have dreamed of joy departed— But a waking dream of life and light
Hath left me broken-hearted.
Ah! what is not a dream by day
To him whose eyes are cast On things around him with a ray
Turned back upon the past?
That holy dream—that holy dream,
While all the world were chiding, Hath cheered me as a lovely beam
A lonely spirit guiding.
What though that light, thro' storm and night,
So trembled from afar— What could there be more purely bright
In Truth's day-star?
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