A DREAM. 



OUR dreams they are the ministers of some mysterious power 

 To prove that our most hidden thoughts have one unguarded hour ; 

 They raise dead memories from the grave ;' they mingle time and space ; 

 They haunt us with strange auguries whose source we may not trace. 



We know them false, yet leave they oft some heaviness behind, 

 So swift and yet so life-like floats the vision o'er the mind, 

 So strangely in our slumber the heart's jarring strings agree, 

 My life, my love, my Adelheid, last night I dreamt of thee. 



I stood within a thronged saloon a rich and gorgeous scene 

 Thyself, 'midst star, and gem, and plume didst shine, that revel's queen- 

 No bidden guest was I a spell upon my heart was laid ; 

 I stood, unheard, unseen by all a spirit and a shade. 



A stranger stood beside thee there was it his sparkling eye 

 That made a thousand glittering forms sweep all unheeded by ? 

 To the low murmur of his tone did the rich music fail? 

 Was it the flushing of his cheek that made thine own so pale ? 



Ah me! how writhed my captive heart beneath its strange control! 

 The chain which bound that hated sleep upon my struggling soul. 

 I could not speak I could not move I could but inly pray 

 That from my spirit the dark dream might quickly pass away. 



He stood, and, bending, whispered thee, by all but me unheard, 

 So close, thy bright locks waved aside in the breath of each low word- 

 He led thee from the wassail throng perchance it did appear 

 Too many gay ones hovered round his traitor's tale to hear. 



He led thee where the myrtle wove a dim and green arcade, 

 Sweetly oh, sweetly on the ear the distant music played ; 

 And there he told of lordly towers, and lands the rich and broad, 

 And crowding vassals who would hail the princess of their lord. 



His voice grew soft he spoke of shades beyond the southern sea, 

 His native shades the green, the fair, where only love might be. 

 And then I heard thee swear, in tones I knew and loved too well, 

 To seek that far and quiet home, with love and him to dwell. 



And he did clasp thee serpent-like his hated arm was twined 

 Around that white and heaving breast that once on mine reclined ; 

 But then the weary dream was o'er the chain in sunder flew 

 I woke I saw this token and I felt that thou wert true. 



W. H. S. 



