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?
all that we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream.
i stand amid the roar
of a surf-tormented shore,
and i held within my hand
grains of the golden sand -
how few! yet how they creep
through my fingers to the deep,
while i weep, while i weep!
o god can i not grasp
them with a tighter clasp?
o god can i not save
one from the pitiless wave?
is all that we see or seem
but a dream within a dream?