A DREAM

WELL may sleep present us fictions, Since our waking moments teem With such fanciful convictions

As make life itself a dream.— Half our daylight faith's a fable; Sleep disports with shadows too, Seeming in their turn as stable

As the world we wake to view.
Ne'er by day did Reason's mint
Give my thoughts a clearer print
Of assured reality,

Than was left by Phantasy
Stamp'd and colour'd on my sprite,
In a dream of yesternight.

In a bark, methought, lone steering,
I was cast on Ocean's strife;
This, 'twas whisper'd in my hearing,
Meant the sea of life.

Sad regrets from past existence

Came, like gales of chilling breath;
Shadow'd in the forward distance
Lay the land of Death.

Now seeming more, now less remote,
On that dim-seen shore, methought,
I beheld two hands a space
Slow unshroud a spectre's face;
And my flesh's hair upstood,-
'Twas mine own similitude.

But my soul revived at seeing
Ocean, like an emerald spark,

Kindle, while an air-dropt being
Smiling steer'd my bark.
Heaven-like-yet he look'd as human
As supernal beauty can,
More compassionate than woman,
Lordly more than man.

And as some sweet clarion's breath
Stirs the soldier's scorn of death-
So his accents bade me brook
The spectre's eyes of icy look,
Till it shut them-turn'd its head,
Like a beaten foe, and fled.

"Types not this," I said, "fair spirit! That my death hour is not come? Say, what days shall I inherit ?—

Tell my soul their sum.

"No," he said, "yon phantom's aspect, Trust me, would appal thee worse, Held in clearly measured prospect :Ask not for a curse!

Make not, for I overhear

Thine unspoken thoughts as clear

As thy mortal ear could catch

The close-brought tickings of a watch

Make not the untold request

That's now revolving in thy breast.

"'Tis to live again, remeasuring

Youth's years, like a scene rehearsed,

In thy second life-time treasuring
Knowledge from the first.

Hast thou felt, poor self-deceiver !

Life's career so void of pain,

As to wish its fitful fever

New begun again?

Could experience, ten times thine,
Pain from Being disentwine-
Threads by Fate together spun?

Could thy flight Heaven's lightning shun?
No, nor could thy foresight's glance
'Scape the myriad shafts of Chance.

"Wouldst thou bear again Love's trouble--Friendship's death-dissever'd ties; Toil to grasp or miss the bubble

Of Ambition's prize?

Say thy life's new guided action

Flow'd from Virtue's fairest springs

Still would Envy and Detraction

Double not their stings?

Worth itself is but a charter

To be mankind's distinguish'd martyr."

-I caught the moral, and cried, "Hail! Spirit! let us onward sail

Envying, fearing, hating none

Guardian Spirit, steer me on!

1824.

THE LAST MAN

ALL worldly shapes shall melt in gloom,
The Sun himself must die,

Before this mortal shall assume
Its Immortality!

I saw a vision in my sleep,

That gave my spirit strength to sweep
Adown the gulf of Time!

I saw the last of human mould,
That shall Creation's death behold,
As Adam saw her prime !

The Sun's eye had a sickly glare,
The Earth with age was wan,
The skeletons of nations were
Around that lonely man!

Some had expired in fight,-the brands
Still rusted in their bony hands;

In plague and famine some!

Earth's cities had no sound nor tread;
And ships were drifting with the dead
To shores where all was dumb!

Yet, prophet-like, that lone one stood,
With dauntless words and high,

That shook the sere leaves from the wood
As if a storm pass'd by,

Saying, We are twins in death, proud Sun! Thy face is cold, thy race is run,

'Tis Mercy bids thee go:

For thou ten thousand thousand years

Hast seen the tide of human tears,

That shall no longer flow.

What though beneath thee man put forth
His pomp, his pride, his skill;

And arts that made fire, flood, and earth,
The vassals of his will?—

Yet mourn I not thy parted sway,

Thou dim discrowned king of day:

For all those trophied arts

And triumphs that beneath thee sprang, Heal'd not a passion or a pang

Entail'd on human hearts.

Go, let Oblivion's curtain fall
Upon the stage of men,

Nor with thy rising beams recall
Life's tragedy again :

Its piteous pageants bring not back,
Nor waken flesh, upon the rack
Of pain anew to writhe;
Stretch'd in disease's shapes abhorr'd,
Or mown in battle by the sword,
Like grass beneath the scythe.

Ev'n I am weary in yon skies
To watch thy fading fire;
Test of all sumless agonies,
Behold not me expire.

My lips that speak thy dirge of death-
Their rounded gasp and gurgling breath
To see thou shalt not boast.

The eclipse of Nature spreads my pall,—
The majesty of Darkness shall
Receive my parting ghost!

This spirit shall return to Him
Who gave its heavenly spark;
Yet think not, Sun, it shall be dim
When thou thyself art dark !
No! it shall live again, and shine
In bliss unknown to beams of thine,
By Him recall'd to breath,
Who captive led Captivity,