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A Day Dream

My eyes make pictures when they're shut:--I see a fountain large and fair,

A Willow and a ruined Hut,

And thee, and me, and Mary there.

O Mary! make thy gentle lap our pillow!

Bend o'er us, like a bower, my beautiful green Willow!

A wild-rose roofs the ruined shed,

And that and summer well

And lo! where Mary leans her head,

Two dear names carved upon the tree!

And Mary's tears, they are not tears of sorrow:

Our sister and our friend will both be here to-morrow.'Twas Day!  But now few, large, and

The stars are round the crescent moon!

And now it is a dark warm Night,

The balmiest of the month of June!

A glow-worm fallen, and on the marge

Shines, and its shadow shines, fit stars for our sweet fountain.

O ever -- ever be thou blest!

For dearly,

Asra! love I thee!

This brooding warmth across my breast,

This depth of tranquil bliss -- ah me!

Fount,

Tree, and Shed are gone,

I know not whither,

But in one quiet room we three are still together.

The shadows dance upon the wall,

By the still dancing fire-flames made;

And now they slumber, moveless all!

And now they melt to one deep shade!

But not from me shall this mild darkness steal thee:

I dream thee with mine eyes, and at my heart I feel thee!

Thine eyelash on my cheek doth play--'Tis Mary's hand upon my brow!

But let me check this tender lay,

Which none may hear but she and thou!

Like the still hive at quiet midnight humming,

Murmur it to yourselves, ye two beloved women!

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Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Samuel Taylor Coleridge (21 October 1772 – 25 July 1834) was an English poet, literary critic, philosopher and theologian who, with his friend W…

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