The Dream-Follower

 A dream of mine flew over the mead 
 To the halls where my old Love reigns; 
And it drew me on to follow its lead: 
 And I stood at her window-panes; 

And I saw but a thing of flesh and bone 
 Speeding on to its cleft in the clay; 
And my dream was scared, and expired on a moan, 
 And I whitely hastened away.

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