The Captive's Dream

Methought I saw him but I knew him not;

He was so changed from what he used to be,

There was no redness on his woe-worn cheek,

No sunny smile upon his ashy lips,

His hollow wandering eyes looked wild and fierce,

And grief was printed on his marble brow,

And O I thought he clasped his wasted hands,

And raised his haggard eyes to Heaven, and prayed

That he might die -- I had no power to speak,

I thought I was allowed to see him thus;

And yet I might not speak one single word;

I might not even tell him that I lived

And that it might be possible if search were made,

To find out where I was and set me free,

O how I longed to clasp him to my heart,

Or but to hold his trembling hand in mine,

And speak one word of comfort to his mind,

I struggled wildly but it was in vain,

I could not rise from my dark dungeon floor,

And the dear name I vainly strove to speak,

Died in a voiceless whisper on my tongue,

Then I awoke, and lo it was a dream!

A dream? Alas it was reality!

For well I know wherever he may be

He mourns me thus -- O heaven I could bear

My deadly fate with calmness if there were

No kindred hearts to bleed and break for me!

Biblioteca Poeta, 2025