DREM OF THE UNKNOWN
PERCY BUSSHE SHELLY
I dream’d that as I wander’d by the way
Bare winter suddenly was changed to spring,
And gentle odours let my steps astray,
Mix’d with a sound of waters murmuring
Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay
Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling
Its green arms round the bosom of the
But kiss’d and then fled as thou mightest in dream.
There grew pied wind flowers and violets,
Daisies those pearl’d Arcturi of the Earth,
The constellated flower that never sets;
Faint oxlips; tender blue bells at whose birth
The sod scarce heaved; and that tall flower that wets-
Like a child, half in tenderness and mirth-
Its mother’s face with heaven’s collected tears,
When the low wind its playmate’s voice, it hears.
And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine,
Green cow bind and the moonlight colour’d may,
And cherry-blossoms, and white cups, whose wine
Was the bright dew yet drain’d not by the day?
And wild rose, and ivy serpentine
With its dark buds and leaves, wandering astray;
And flowers azure, black and streak’d with gold,
Fairer than any waken’d eyes behold.
And nearer to the river’s trembling edge
There grew broad flag flowers purple, prank with white,
And starry river buds among the sedge,
And floating water lilies broad and bright,
Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge?
Whit moonlight beams of their own watery light;
And bulrushes and reeds of such deep green
As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen.
Methought that of these visionary flowers
I made a nosegay, bound in such a way
That the same hues which in their natural bowers
Where mingled or opposed the like array
Kept these imprison’d children of the Hours
Within my hand –and then elate and gay,
I hasten’d the spot whence I had come
That I might there present it - ! to whom?
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