The Captives Dream

Methought I saw him but I knew him not;

He was so changed from what he used to be,

There was no redness on his woe-worn cheek,

No sunny smile upon his ashy lips,

His hollow wandering eyes looked wild and fierce,

And grief was printed on his marble brow,

And O I thought he clasped his wasted hands,

And raised his haggard eyes to Heaven, and

That he might die — I had no power to speak,

I thought I was allowed to see him thus;

And yet I might not speak one single word;

I might not even tell him that I

And that it might be possible if search were made,

To find out where I was and set me free,

O how I longed to clasp him to my heart,

Or but to hold his trembling hand in mine,

And speak one word of comfort to his mind,

I struggled wildly but it was in vain,

I could not rise from my dark dungeon floor,

And the dear name I vainly strove to speak,

Died in a voiceless whisper on my tongue,

Then I awoke, and lo it was a dream!

A dream?

Alas it was reality!

For well I know wherever he may

He mourns me thus — O heaven I could

My deadly fate with calmness if there

No kindred hearts to bleed and break for me!

Alexandrina Zenobia