I’M DREAMING NOW.

Speak gently, tread lightly—I’m dreaming now,

And the soft light of Hope gilds my upturned brow,

While brightly love-phantoms before me shine,

And joy’s festal garlands around me entwine.

Light carols the Future—I echo its lay,

And am happy and glad as a young child at play.

Speak softly and low:—Though I’m dreaming now,

A shade from the past presses cold on my brow:

I list for loved voices—they greet not mine ear;

And I watch—all in vain—for the forms once so dear.

Naught, naught is forgot—and a quivering thrill,

As I dwell on lang-syne, in my breast responds still.

Speak gently no more; I’m awak’ning now,

And Care’s darksome shadow steals over my brow;

My spirit has lost its fair rainbow hue,

And wrong, and deceit, cloud its roseate view:

With a mournful cry, through the wild rustling air,

Comes a voice which breathes ever a strain of despair.

Speak boldly and free—I’m not dreaming now;

Reality’s signet is stamped on my brow:

Gone, gone are Hope’s beacons, and faded is joy;

The shroud mantled Future all bliss doth destroy!

With a heart stricken sore—a soul that’s bowed low,

I am pinioned to Earth by the fetters of wo.

CHROMIA.