The Coming of the Dreams

A GROUP OF LYRICS.

WOULD you look on Paradise,
It must be with closèd eyes.
On beyond the meadow flowers,
On beyond the forest bowers,
On beyond, beyond, it lies.
Close, oh, close your eyes!
One by one, the dreams come on,
Glimmer, glisten, and are gone.
See them while you may;
None will come another day.

Would you hear the singing spheres,
Lie and list with closèd ears.
’Neath the wind-harps in the bowers,
’Neath the feet of happy hours,
Sweet as thought on other years, —
Shut, oh, shut your ears!
One by one, the dreams come on ;
A breath, a whisper, — they are gone.
Hear them while you may;
None will come another day.