The Dreamer

Throughout his span of argent days
From birth to death, —a narrow zone,—
He wanders by untrodden ways,
Alone, yet not alone.

For ariel fancy moulds him mirth,
A slave to work his lightest whim;
And every vagrant wind of earth
Is company for him.

He sees a brother in the star
Set on the evening's violet verge,
And like his own the pulse-beats are
In the deep ocean surge.

He finds a fellow in the tree
Reliant in its thews of power,
And, rival of the lover bee,
He woos the lady flower.

He from the poet brook beguiles
The secret of its clearest rhyme,
And year on shortening year he smiles
In the hard face of Time.

So when he slips from earth at last,
This alien in the clay, it seems
As though from bondage he had passed
To other dearer dreams.