[edit] The Dream

[edit] A Dream

A SWALLOW from a distant land
Soft fluttered thro' a mossy wood.
I saw a baby's small white hand,
Whereon-it just a moment stood.
I turned my eyes-the bird had flown;
A tiny grave stood there alone.

The sleeping oaks o'er faintly swayed,
Bright stars flashed thro' their branches high;
Like wild bird eyes on nest betrayed
By upblown leaves, when passes by
A little wind, swift came to me
One glimpse of far Eternity.



Bush and Sea Rhymes etc (The Walter Scott Publishing Co 1914)