In visions of the dark night
    I have dreamed of joy departed—
But a waking dreams of life and light
    Hath left me broken-hearted.

Ah! what is not a dream by day
    To him whose eyes are cast
On things around him with a ray
    Turned back upon the past?

That holy dream—that holy dream,
    While all the world were chiding,
Hath cheered me as a lovely beam
    A lonely spirit guiding.

What though that light, thro’ storm and night,
    So trembled from afar—
What could there be more purely bright
    In Truths day-star?