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A Dream

A wilder’d being from my birth
   My spirit spurn’d control,
But now, abroad on the wide earth,
   Where wand’rest thou my soul?
In visions of the dark night
   I have dreamed of joy departed—
But a waking dreams of life and light
   Hath left me broken-hearted.
 
Ah! what is not a dream by day
   To him whose eyes are cast
On things around him with a ray
   Turned back upon the past?
 
That holy dream—that holy dream,
   While all the world were chiding,
Hath cheered me as a lovely beam
   A lonely spirit guiding.
 
What though that light, thro’ storm and night,
   So trembled from afar—
What could there be more purely bright
   In Truths day-star?
Other works by Edgar Allan Poe ...



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