That could a living maid like her
Unto this wondering world be born,
I would myself turn worshipper.
Sleep came then o'er me--and I seemed
To be transported far away
To a bleak desert plain where gleamed
One single, melancholy ray.
Throughout that darkness dimly shed
From a small taper in the hand
Of one who pale as are the dead
Before me took his spectral stand,
And said while awfully a smile
Came o'er the wanness of his cheek--
"Go and beside the sacred Nile
"You'll find the Eternal Life you seek."
Soon as he spoke these words the hue
Of death o'er all his features grew
Like the pale morning when o'er night
She gains the victory full of light;
While the small torch he held became
A glory in his hand whose flame
Brightened the desert suddenly,
Even to the far horizon's line--
Along whose level I could see
Gardens and groves that seemed to shine
As if then o'er them freshly played
A vernal rainbow's rich cascade;
And music floated every where,
Circling, as 'twere itself the air,
And spirits on whose wings the hue
Of heaven still lingered round me flew,
Till from all sides such splendors broke,
That with the excess of light I woke!
Such was my dream;--and I confess
Tho' none of all our creedless school
E'er conned, believed, or reverenced less
The fables of the priest-led fool
Who tells us of a soul, a mind,
Separate and pure within us shrined,
Which is to live--ah, hope too bright!--
For ever in yon fields of light;
Who fondly thinks the guardian eyes
Of Gods are on him--as if blest
And blooming in their own blue skies
The eternal Gods were not too wise
To let weak man disturb their rest!--
Tho' thinking of such creeds as thou
And all our Garden sages think,
Yet is there something, I allow,
In dreams like this--a sort of link
With worlds unseen which from the hour
I first could lisp my thoughts till now
Hath mastered me with spell-like power.
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