IF only in my dreams I may behold you,
Still hath the day a goal;
If only in my dreams I may enfold you,
Still hath the night a soul.
Leaden the hours may press upon my spirit,
Nor one dear pledge redeem,—
I will not chide, so they at last inherit
And crown me with the rapture of that dream.
Ten thousand blossoms earth's gay gardens cherish;
One pale, pale rose is mine.
Of frost or blight the rest may quickly perish,—
Not so that rose divine.
Deathless it blooms in quiet realms Elysian;
And when toil wins me rest,
Forgetful of all else, in blissful vision
I breathe my rose, and clasp it to my breast!