[Miss Olivia]

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who 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 it therefore the less gone?
ALL that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within 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!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
ONE from the pitiless wave?
Is ALL that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?