The Dreamer

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Glad, but not flushed with gladness,---
    Since joys go by;
Sad, but not bent with sadness,---
    Since sorrows die;
Faint in the gleaming glass
She sees all past things pass,
And all sweet life that was,
    Lie down and die.

And glowing ghosts of flowers
    Draw down, draw nigh,
And wings of swift dead hours
    Take flight and fly;
And seeing she hears what seems
Lulled sounds of straying streams,
Dead mouths of many dreams
    That sing and sigh.

A painted dream, beholden
    Of no man's eye,
Framed in far memories, golden
    As hope when nigh
Holds fast her soul that hears
Faint waters flow like tears
By shores no sunbeam cheers
    From all the sky.

Face fallen and white throat lifted
    With sleepless eye,
She sees old loves that drifted
    Sink low, soar high.
Old loves and faded fears
Float down a shore that hears
The flowing of all men's tears
    Beneath the sky.



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