Last night I dreamed, mine enemy,
That you were at my side,
As in the days e'er coldness came
Our spirits to divide.
You smiled again with cordial eyes
And simple heart elate,
As in the happy olden time
That nothing knew of hate,
And I forgot, in converse glad,
The bitterness since then,
And nearer to my thought you seemed—
Dearer—than other men;
For memory, with softened touch
Of pity, that caressed,
Made every kindness glow more bright,—
And blotted out the rest.
Last night from dreams, mine enemy,
I woke in tears, and knew
The soul, apart from mortal strife,
Has naught with hate to do.