CXI

A vision of my lady came to me
In the last watches of departing night;
Rising with Phospher, she presaged the light
From which sleep's shadowing fancies turn and flee.
I strove to speak, for I could plainly see
She paused before me in the act of flight,
Measuring her visit by my rapid sight,
Fulfilling still our mournful destiny.
Even in my dreams must this sad fate pursue,
And night repeat the story of the day,
Hurrying the image of my Love away?
Lest I, o'er-raptured with the blissful view,
Should half forget what fate enslaves us two,
And in my folly whisper, 'Stay, oh, stay!'