Dreams

While on my lonely couch I lie,
I seldom feel my self alone,
For fancy fills my dreaming eye
With scenes and pleasures of its own.

Then I may cherish at my breast
An infant's form beloved and fair;
May smile and soothe it into rest,
With all a mother's fondest care.

How sweet to feel its helpless form
Depending thus on me alone;
And while I hold it safe and warm,
What bliss to think it is my own!

And glances then may meet my eyes
That daylight never showed to me;
What raptures in my bosom rise
Those earnest looks of love to see!

To feel my hand so kindly prest,
To know myself beloved at last;
To think my heart has found a rest,
My life of solitude is past!

But then to wake and find it flown,
The dream of happiness destroyed;
To find myself unloved, alone,
What tongue can speak the dreary void!

A heart whence warm affections flow,
Creator, Thou hast given to me;
And am I only thus to know
How sweet the joys of love would be?