I dreamed of loving once. In such a dream
Did joy and laughter decorate my sleep.
But dreams are dreams, and dreams have I to keep—
That joy is past, and deadened is that dream.
I dreamed of loving once. Recurrent dream
Of fancy born through son and fountains’ leap;
My well ran dry, my harvest’s fruitless reap.
Awake was I to sleep a nascent dream:
I dream to love again. And there you are:
A scribbled beauty, voice so sweet to hear.
Are dreams the truth? Or truth but just a dream?
To stay; to fall—we are not how we seem—
I dream to love again, but strike me fear,
And love I may, a dreaming from afar.