Dreams

The magic of a dream how great! To us it gives a might divine, Whereby our souls annihilate The power of death, and space, and time.

The forms which lie recumbent, cold, In tombs and charnel-houses lone, In dreams our eyes again behold, As they in life were loved and known.

We enter through the gates of sleep, Into a neutral interspace, Most pleasant to the eyes that weep, For Life and Death can there embrace.

There absence ceases to divide; Though seas and mountains intervene, Friend unto friend can swiftly glide, And reck not of the space between.

There I last night thy form beheld, My ancient comrade, tried and true! Tears from my eyes profusely welled, And tears as freely fell from you!