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Dinah Maria Mulock - Only A Dream
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METHOUGHT I saw thee yesternight 
Sit by me in the olden guise, 
The white robes and the pain foregone, 
Weaving instead of amaranth crown 
A web of mortal dyes. 

I cried, "Where hast thou been so long?" 
(The mild eyes turned and mutely smiled 
"Why dwellest thou in far-off lands? 
What is that web within thy hands?" 
--"I work for thee, my child." 

I clasped thee in my arms and wept; 
I kissed thee oft with passion wild: 
I poured fond questions, tender blame; 
Still thy sole answer was the same,-- 
"I work for thee, my child." 

"Come and walk with me as of old." 
Then camest thou, silent as before; 
We passed along that churchyard way 
We used to tread each Sabbath day, 
Till one trod earth no more. 

I felt thy hand upon my arm, 
Beside me thy meek face I saw, 
Yet through the sweet familiar grace 
A something spiritual could trace 
That left a nameless awe. 

Trembling I said, "Long years have passed 
Since thou wert from my side beguiled; 
Now thou`rt returned and all shall be 
As was before."--Half-pensively 
Thou answered`st--"Nay, my child." 

I pleaded sore: "Hadst thou forgot 
The love wherewith we loved of old,-- 
The long sweet days of converse blest, 
The nights of slumber on thy breast,-- 
Wert thou to me grown cold?" 

There beamed on me those eyes of heaven 
That wept no more, but ever smiled; 
"Love only is love in that Home 
Where I abide--where, till thou come, 
I work for thee, my child." 

If from my sight thou passedst then, 
Or if my sobs the dream exiled, 
I know not: but in memory clear 
I seem these strange words still to hear, 
"I work for thee, my child."
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