Take this kiss upon thy brow!
And, in parting from you now
Thus much let avow
You are not wrong to deem
That my days have been a dream
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night or in a day
In a vision or in none
Is therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream with in a dream.
I stand anmid the roar
Of a surf tormented shore
And I hold in my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! Yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep
While I weep-while I weep!
Can I not grasp?
Them tighter clasp?
Can I not save?
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
