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Wilfrid Scawen Blunt - A Dream
Work rating: Medium

I dreamed
 A dream of you,
 Not as you seemed
 When you were late unkind
 And blind
 To my eyes` pleading for a debt long due,
 But touched and true
 And all inclined
 To tenderest fancies on love`s inmost theme.
 How sweet you were to me and ah, how kind
 In that dear dream!

 I felt
 Your lips on mine
 Mingle and melt,
 And your cheek touch my cheek.
 I, weak
 With vain desires and askings for a sign
 Of love divine,
 Found my grief break,
 And wept and wept in an unending stream
 Of sudden joy set free, yet could not speak,
 Dumb in my dream.

 I knew
 You loved me then,
 And I knew too
 The bliss of souls in Heaven
 New--shriven,
 Who look with pity on still sinning men,
 And turn again
 To be forgiven
 In the dear arms of their God holding them,
 And spend themselves in praise from morn till even
 Nor break their dream.

 I woke
 In my mid bliss,
 At midnight`s stroke,
 And knew you lost and gone.
 Forlorn
 I called you back to my unfinished kiss,
 But only this
 One word of scorn
 You answered me, ```Twas better loved to seem
 Than loved to be, since all love is forsworn,
 Always a dream.``
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