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The Dream

I WOKE to find my pillow wet
 With the tears for deeds deep hid in sleep.
I knew no sorrow here, but yet
 The tears fell softly through the deep.
 
Your eyes, your other eyes of dream,
 Looked at me through the veil of blank;
I saw their joyous, starlit gleam
 Like one who watches rank on rank.
 
His victor airy legions wind
 And pass before his awful throne—
Was there thy loving heart unkind,
 Was I thy captive all o’erthrown?
Other works by George William Russell...



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