My Happiest Dream

 ("J'aime à me figure.") 
 
 {Bk. III. vii. and viii.} 


 I love to look, as evening fails, 
 On vestals streaming in their veils, 
 Within the fane past altar rails, 
 Green palms in hand. 
 My darkest moods will always clear 
 When I can fancy children near, 
 With rosy lips a-laughing—dear, 
 Light-dancing band! 
 
 Enchanting vision, too, displayed, 
 That of a sweet and radiant maid, 
 Who knows not why she is afraid,— 
 Love's yet unseen! 
 Another—rarest 'mong the rare— 
 To see the gaze of chosen fair 
 Return prolonged and wistful stare 
 Of eager een. 
 
 But—dream o'er all to stir my soul, 
 And shine the brightest on the roll, 
 Is when a land of tyrant's toll 
 By sword is rid. 
 I say not dagger—with the sword 
 When Right enchampions the horde, 
 All in broad day—so that the bard 
 May sing the victor with the starred 
 Bayard and Cid! 


 

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