To A Dreamer
I scan thy features, calm and white
Beneath the single taper's light
Thy dark-fringed lids, behind whose screen
Are eyes that view not earth's demesne.
And as I look, I fain would know
The paths whereon thy dream-steps go,
The spectral realms that thou canst see
With eyes veiled from the world and me.
For I have likewise gazed in sleep
On things my memory scarce can keep.
And from half-knowing long to spy
Again the scenes before thine eye.
I, too, have known the peaks of Thok;
The vales of Pnath, where dream-shapes flock;
The vaults of Zin - and well I trove
Why thou demand'st that taper's glow.
But what is this that subtly slips
Over thy face and bearded lips?
What fear distracts thy mind and heart,
That drops must from thy forehead start?
Old vision wake - thine opening eyes
Gleam Black with clouds of other skies,
And from some demoniac sight
I flee into the haunted night.
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