A SOMNAMBULIST.
Reading edition
“A change came o’er the spirit of my dream.”—Byron.
ETHOUGHT—for Fancy is the strangest gadder When sleep all homely Mundane ties hath riven— Methought that I ascended Jacob’s ladder, With heartfelt hope of getting up to Heaven: Some bell, I knew not whence, was sounding seven When I set foot upon that long one-pair; And still I climbed when it had chimed eleven, Nor yet of landing-place became aware; Step after step in endless flight seem’d there; But on, with steadfast hope, I struggled still, To gain that blessed haven from all care, Where tears are wiped, and hearts forget their ill, When, lo! I wakened on a sadder stair— Tramp—tramp—tramp—tramp—upon the Brixton Mill!
