Dreams
I dared not claim my little portion of life—
I fade into the darkness of all past things.
Better the dream should perish than the soul.
I fade into the darkness of all past things.
Better the dream should perish than the soul.
The Man
I am too weak to meet eternity.
The stream of utter oblivion bends and whirls,
And claims me with sweet promises of rest.
But thou, most dear, my best-belovéd dream,
Take thou my little soul from off my lips.
This dying sacrifice has made it strong,
And it shall sing upon my lips such things
As I have longed to sing through many a day,
And many a night, and the great world of men
Shall see thee now, no more a formless dream,
But an immortal and incorporate life—
The union of the ideal with the real.
And a great song beyond the realms of Time,
The stream of utter oblivion bends and whirls,
And claims me with sweet promises of rest.
But thou, most dear, my best-belovéd dream,
Take thou my little soul from off my lips.
This dying sacrifice has made it strong,
And it shall sing upon my lips such things
As I have longed to sing through many a day,
And many a night, and the great world of men
Shall see thee now, no more a formless dream,
But an immortal and incorporate life—
The union of the ideal with the real.
And a great song beyond the realms of Time,
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