Dreams
Who first said “false as dreams”? Not one who sawInto the wild and wondrous world they sway;No thinker who hath read their mystic law;No Poet who hath weaved them in his lay.
Else had he known that through the human breastCross and recross a thousand fleeting gleams,That, passed unnoticed in the day’s unrest,Come out at night, like stars, in shining dreams;
That minds too busy or too dull to markThe dim suggestion of the noisier hours,By dreams in the deep silence of the dark,Are roused at midnight with their folded powers.
Like that old fount beneath Dodona’s oaks,That, dry and voiceless in the garish noon,When the calm night arose with modest looks,Caught with full wave the sparkle of the moon.
If, now and then, a ghastly shape glide in,And fright us with its horrid gloom or glee,It is the ghost of some forgotten sinWe failed to exorcise on bended knee.
And that sweet face which only yesternightCame to thy solace, dreamer (didst thou readThe blessing in its eyes of tearful light?),Was but the spirit of some gentle deed.
Each has its lesson; for our dreams in sooth,Come they in shape of demons, gods, or elves,Are allegories with deep hearts of truthThat tell us solemn secrets of ourselves.