Methought I saw him, but I knew him not,
He was so changed from what he used to be;
There was no redness in his woe-worn cheeks,
No sunny smile upon his ashy lips;
His hollow, wandering eyes looked wild and fierce,
And grief was printed on his marble brow;
And, oh, 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.
Oh! 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. Oh, Heaven! I could bear
My deadly fate with calmness if there were
No kindred hearts to bleed and break for me.
I am busy working to bring Anne Brontë's "The Captain's Dream" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Anne Brontë's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "The Captain's Dream" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.