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Dinah Maria Mulock - A Dream Of Death
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WHERE shall we sail to-day?"--Thus said, methought, 
A voice that only could be heard in dreams: 
And on we glided without mast or oar, 
A wondrous boat upon a wondrous sea. 

Sudden, the shore curved inward to a bay, 
Broad, calm, with gorgeous sea-weeds waving slow 
Beneath the water, like rich thoughts that stir 
In the mysterious deep of poets` hearts. 

So still, so fair, so rosy in the dawn 
Lay that bright bay: yet something seemed to breath, 
Or in the air, or from the whispering waves, 
Or from that voice, as near as one`s own soul, 

"There was a wreck last night." A wreck? then where 
The ship, the crew?--The all-entombing sea 
On which is writ nor name nor chronicle 
Laid itself o`er them with smooth crystal smile. 

"Yet was the wreck last night.". And gazing down 
Deep down below the surface, we were ware 
Of ghastly faces with their open eyes 
Uplooking to the dawn they could not see. 

One moved with moving sea-weeds: one lay prone, 
The tinted fishes gliding o`er his breast; 
One, caught by floating hair, rocked quietly 
Upon his reedy cradle, like a child. 

"The wreck has been"--said the melodious voice, 
"Yet all is peace. The dead, that, while we slept, 
Struggled for life, now sleep and fear no storms: 
O`er them let us not weep when heaven smiles." 

So we sailed on above the diamond sands, 
Bright sea-flowers, and white faces stony calm, 
Till the waves bore us to the open main, 
And the great sun arose upon the world.
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