Believe me, this was true last night, 
Tho' it is false to-day.
- A.M.F. Robinson.

A FAIR dream to my chamber flew: 
Such a crowd of folk that stirred, 
Jested, fluttered; only you,
You alone of all that band,
Calm and silent, spake no word. 
Only once you neared my place, 
And your hand one moment's space 
Sought the fingers of my hand; 
Your eyes flashed to mine; I knew 
All was well between us two.

On from dream to dream I past,
But the first sweet vision cast 
Mystic radiance o'er the last.

When I woke the pale night lay
Still, expectant of the day;
All about the chamber hung
Tender shade of twilight gloom;
The fair dream hovered round me, clung 
To my thought like faint perfume:-
Like sweet odours, such as cling
To the void flask, which erst encloses 
Attar of rose; or the pale string
Of amber which has lain with roses.