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O, that my life were a dream

my spirit shan´t awake until the beam

of an eternity shall bring a new tomorrow

o, that long dream were of hopeless sorrow.

It were better than the cold reality

of waking life, to him whose heart must be

and has been still upon the lovely earth,

a chaos of deep passions from his birth.

For I have revelled when the sun was bright

in summer skies in dreams of living light.

And loveliness has left my very heart

come sweet night and tear my soul apart.

Its image on my spirit - or the moon

shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon,

too coldly - or the stars - however it was,

that dream was at the night-wind - let it pass.