The Dream by Clarinda Parkes

   I slept, I dreamt,
   Wouldst know my thought? --
   O, that such dreams
   I had but sought!  

Methought I stood by a river bright,
   Which wandered far away,
And the sun beamed on with a golden light
   Where a lovely island lay.

But suddenly behind a cloud
   That sun's bright orb was lost;
And that fair island in a shroud
   Of darkness dense was cast.

And then a small white speck appeared,
   Relieved against that island dark,
Nearer and nearer still it came,
   And seemed to be a little bark.

It drifted on, and touched the strand --
   A small straight plank with awning o'er,
And in it lay a coffin old,
   From which a fair girl sprang on shore.

Angelic beauty marked each line
   Of that young lovely face;  
And small bright wings of a pearl-like hue
   Showed her of heavenly race.

She took my hand, and sweetly smiled,
   And looked into my face,
And said, "Thy rose has faded, come,
   And share with me my Master's grace."

She led me then from place to place --
   Explained my Maker's love;
She showed me every wond'rous thing,
   The work of Him above.

   I then awoke,
   My dream took flight,
   And on me shone
   The moon's fair light.

First published in The Empire, 19 June 1855

Author reference site: Austlit

See also.