Classic Poem

If I were Sleep,
With scythe to reap,
Like faded flowers,
The weary hours
Of withered day, —
If I were Sleep,
With dreams to keep
And give away, —
If I were Sleep,
And God should say,
" Go down to her you love to-night,
Go down and lay
A dream upon her eyelids white! "
What dream of wonder and delight
Would I convey, —
If I were Sleep,
With dreams to keep
And give away?
Oh, this meseems,
Of all the dreams,
My choice would be —
A dream compact of sun and shade,
A dream of truth and fancy made,
A dream that on her eyelids laid,
Would make her see
Love standing near with wistful eyes,
Unhappy and unwise,
With tragic lips, withered by many sighs,
With weary hands, holding no flowers of fame,
No high achievements perfect and complete,
But bitter weeds of failure and defeat,

And cruel thorns of shame, —
With broken heart deeming all things are vain,
And so o'erbrimmed with memories of disgrace,
It has no place
Even for pain.
And then the dreamland mist would stir,
And Love's unhappy face,
Lit with a wonder strange,
Would flush and change;
And his sad eyes would gleam,
For at his side he would discover her
Who dreams the dream.
And still for very pity's sake
I would not have the dreamer wake —
Would have her see herself appear
In the dim dreamland atmosphere —
Would have her wait and witness how
Her own red lips bend down and kiss his brow,
And her own eyes peruse his very soul,
Reading it like a scroll,
And finding still her name in it
Imperishably writ.
Oh, I would have her understand,
Seeing it in a dream,
How her bright eyes and her white hand
Love's life redeem,
Till sweeter even than success his failures seem.
O Love the baffled, Love the dumb,
In her fair presence would become
A singer with a magic lyre,
A saint consumed by high desire,
A warrior-god,
Cuirassed and shod
With lightning and Olympic fire.
Oh, warmly Love's sad heart would beat,
And brightly his dim eyes would glance,
And joyously his weary feet
Would leap and dance.
This is the dream I would convey;
And haply at the break
Of day
She would awake,
And for the sake
Of the strange dream with Love would stay.
This is the dream I would convey
If I were Sleep,
With dreams to keep,
Or give away.