And ask ye why these sad tears stream?

3And ask ye why these sad tears stream?

4Why these wan eyes are dim with weeping?

5I had a dream–a lovely dream,

6Of her that in the grave is sleeping.

7I saw her as ’twas yesterday,

8The bloom upon her cheek still glowing;

9And round her play’d a golden ray,

10And on her brows were gay flowers blowing.

11With angel-hand she swept a lyre,

12A garland red with roses bound it;

13Its strings were wreath’d with lambent fire

14And amaranth was woven round it.

15I saw her mid the realms of light,

16In everlasting radiance gleaming;

17Co-equal with the seraphs bright,

18Mid thousand thousand angels beaming.

19I strove to reach her, when, behold,

20Those fairy forms of bliss Elysian,

21And all that rich scene wrapt in gold,

22Faded in air–a lovely vision!

23And I awoke, but oh! to me

24That waking hour was doubly weary;

25And yet I could not envy thee,

26Although so blest, and I so dreary.