Mystery

Well, let it pass, it was only a dream And dreams are made to melt in air It cheered me with a passing gleam And are realities bound more to fail Or do they foretell a steadier beam To gild our thoughts and soften care Hope was wild! The mountain-rose Brightness from its bower of thorn Is more lovely in winds as it blows Nor sooner, by rude tempest storm Falls withered where in pride it rose The joy of earth, the child of morn That hope has fled, I knew it well I felt it more when I loved it most It could not long with mortal dwell It was a real joy from seraph tost As over this world his glances fell He called it back, my star was lost