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Poem	I DREAM’D I lay where flowers were springing Gaily in the sunny beam; List’ning to the wild birds singing, By a falling crystal stream: Straight the sky grew black and daring; Thro’ the woods the whirlwinds rave; Tress with aged arms were warring, O’er the swelling drumlie wave. Such was my life’s deceitful morning, Such the pleasures I enjoyed: But lang or noon, loud tempests storming A’ my flowery bliss destroy’d. Tho’ fickle fortune has deceiv’d me— She promis’d fair, and perform’d but ill, Of mony a joy and hope bereav’d me— I bear a heart shall support me still.
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