The Bridge Of Dreams

The thought of thee is like a swinging tune, A little swinging tune I seem to hear; The thought of thee is like the breeze of June Blowing across the winter of the year!

The thought of thee is like a golden star Set all alone within the midnight blue;-- A heaven-lit candle shining from afar Upon the road that we are passing through.

The thought of thee is like the woods in spring, With silver-grey and silver-green o'erset; The thought of thee is what the four winds bring Over the banks of wild-blown mignonette.

And all the music of the twilight sea, Echoes thy voice in tender undertone; The sea-gulls seem but grey-winged thoughts of thee, Caught on the salted wing and homeward blown!

God keeps the secret of His heaven well,-- But Azrael finds its gates, where'er they be; And from the earth, to fields of Asphodel, I build a bridge of dreams, and cross to thee.