A DREAM. 85 



' I dreamed that I was walking alone, in an evening of 

 singular beauty, over a low piece of marshy ground 

 which lies about half a mile to the north of the place 

 where I wrought. On a bank which rises above the 

 marsh there is a small burying-ground, and the ruins 

 of an old chapel. I dreamed that I arrived at the 

 burying-ground , and that it was laid out in a manner 

 the most exquisitely elegant. The tombs were of beau- 

 tiful and varied workmanship. They were of a styl 

 either chastely Grecian or gorgeously Gothic ; and en- 

 wreathed and half hid by the flowers and foliage of 

 beautiful shrubs, which sprung up and clustered around 

 them. There was a profusion of roses, mingled with 

 delicate blue flowers of a species I never saw except in 

 this dream. The old Gothic chapel seemed roofed with 

 stone, and appeared as entire as the day it had been com- 

 pleted ; but from the lichens and mosses with which it 

 was covered, it looked more antique than almost any 

 building I remember to have seen. The whole scene 

 was relieved against a clear sky, which seemed bright 

 and mellow as if the sun had set only a minute before. 

 Suddenly, however, it became dark and lowering, a low 

 breeze moaned through the tombs and bushes, and I 

 began to feel the influence of a superstitious terror. I 

 looked towards the chapel, and on its western gable I 

 saw an antique-looking, singularly formed beam of 

 bronze, which seemed to unite in itself the shapes of the 

 hour hand of a clock and the gnomon of a dial. As I 

 gazed on it, it turned slowly on its axis until it pointed 

 at a spot on the sward below. It then remained sta- 

 tionary as before. My terror increased, the images of 

 my dream became less distinct, and my last recollection 

 before I awoke is of a wild night-scene, and of my 

 floundering on in the darkness through the marsh below 



