Dreams of the Beloved [poem by Charles Harpur]

[Editor: This poem by Charles Harpur was published in The Bushrangers; A Play in Five Acts, and Other Poems (1853).]

Dreams of the Beloved.

Her image haunts me. Lo! I muse at even,
And straight it gathers from the gloom to make
My soul its mirror, which (as some deep lake
Impictures the cerulean smiles of heaven)
Through the hushed night retains it, when ’tis given
To take a warmer presence and incline
A glowing cheek all blushfully to mine,
Saying, “The heart for which thou long hast striven
With pale looks, fancy pale, I grant thee now,
And if for pity, yet more for Love’s sweet sake,
My lips shall seal this promise on thy brow.”
Thus blest in sleep, who would not weep to wake
When the cold truth from his belief must shake
Such vows, like blossoms from a shatter’d bough?



Source:
Charles Harpur, The Bushrangers; A Play in Five Acts, and Other Poems, Sydney: W. R. Piddington, 1853, page 104

Editor’s notes:
cerulean = (also spelt “caerulean”) sky-blue; a deep blue colour; blue the colour of a clear blue sky

impicture = (archaic) to represent as if in a picture; to portray; to impress as with a picture

Old spelling in the original text:
blest (blessed)
hast (has)
thee (you)
thou (you)
thy (your)

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