The Sundial

They sleep within. . . . I cower to the earth, I waking, I only. High and cold thou dreamest, O queen, high-dreaming and lonely. We have slept too long, who can hardly win The white one flame, and the night-long crying; The viewless passers; the worl

They cut it down, and where the pitch-black aisles Of forest night had hid eternal things, They scaled the sky with towers and marble piles To make a city for their revellings. White and amazing to the lands around That wondrous wealth of domes and t

Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, 'Twere better than the cold reality Of waking life, to him whose heart must

Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow- You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone?

Sundial - The Sundial Sleeping alone at night In an empty house No one can hear your lonely sigh The walls are wide and claustrophobic Where will you go? To drown your sorrows The phone never rings The shadow of the night Permeates the empty space Wh