Beauty Comes First
WE CREATE PERPETUAL SPIRIT
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 hold 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! Can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? Can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream.