Untitled

" Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow-

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if Hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar.

Of a serf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand-

How few! Yet how they creep!

Through my fingers to the deep,

While I weep, While I weep!

O God! Can I not grasp

Them in a tighter clasp?

O God! Can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?"