Classic Poem

[To Anne de Vignelles, her attendant and confidant.]

Marie . Hast thou ne'er in dreams
Seen fairer sights than ever day revealed?
Anne . Even so.
Marie . And when the sun's rekindled beams
Awoke thee from that blissful trance of night,
Seemed not his glorious face a very cloud,
Contrasted with the splendours of thy sleep?
Anne . Why ask?
Marie . To show thee we may sometimes see
More things, and lovelier too, than our eyes rest on.
Anne . And have you seen such?
Marie . Aye; so deeply, too,
That I can see nought else. I'm happy, Anne!
For I may tell thee that as scenes of day
Are poor to those of sleep, sleep's are excelled
By the revealings of one heavenly mood
That plays 'twixt dreams and wakefulness — a mood
Where hope so blesses, that we scarce desire
Its consummation, and our thought becalmed
The realm beyond can match the shore that bounds it;
When truth surpassing fancy, nought so fair
Imagination pictures as the world
We are unto ourselves; when Nature owes us
More than she gives of beauty; when the sun,
The stream, the mountain, from our fulness take
New glory, grace and grandeur, while we pass
On our free way — debtors to none but God!