Classic Poem

The Day was dying; his breath
Wavered away in a hectic gleam —
And I said, if Life's a dream, and Death
And Love and all are dreams — I'll dream.

A Mist came over the Bay
Like as a Dream would over an eye —
The Mist was white and the Dream was grey
And both contained a human cry —

The burthen whereof was " Love, "
And it filled both Mist and Dream with pain,
And the hills below and the skies above
Were touched and uttered it back again.

The Mist broke: down the rift
A kind ray shot from a holy star.
Then my Dream did waver and break and lift —
Through it, Cherie, shone thy face, afar.

So Boyhood sets: comes Youth,
A painful night of Mists and Dreams —
That broods, till Love's exquisite truth,
The star of a morn-clear Manhood, beams.