Classic Poem

I'm buried now; I've done with life;
I've done with hate, revenge, and strife;
I've done with joy, and hope, and love,
And all the bustling world above.

Long have I dwelt forgotten here
In pining woe and dull despair,
This place of solitude and gloom
Must be my dungeon and my tomb,

No hope, no pleasure can I find;
I am grown weary of my mind;
Often in balmy sleep I try
To gain a rest from misery,

And in one hour of calm repose
To find a respite from my woes;
But dreamless sleep is not for me
And I am still in misery.

I dream of liberty 'tis true,
But then I dream of sorrow too,
Of blood and guilt and horrid woes,
Of tortured friends and happy foes;

I dream about the world, but then
I dream of fiends instead of men,
Each smiling hope so quickly fades
And such a lurid gloom pervades

That world — that when I wake and see,
Those dreary phantoms fade and flee,
Even in my dungeon I can smile,
And taste of joy a little while.

And yet it is not always so —
I dreamt a little while ago
That all was as it used to be,
A fresh free wind passed over me;

It was a pleasant summer's day,
The sun shone forth with cheering ray;
Methought a little lovely child
Looked up into my face and smiled.

My heart was full, I wept for joy,
It was my own, my darling boy.
I clasped him to my breast and he
Kissed me and laughed in childish glee.

Just then I heard in whisper sweet
A well known voice my name repeat.
His father stood before my eyes;
I gazed at him in mute surprise,

I thought he smiled and spoke to me,
But still in silent ecstasy
I gazed at him, I could not speak;
I uttered one long piercing shriek.

Alas! alas that cursed scream
Aroused me from my heavenly dream,
I looked around in wild despair
I called them, but they were not there,
The Father and the child are gone
And I must live and die alone!