The Dream

Love, if I weep it will not matter,
&nbspAnd if you laugh I shall not care;
Foolish am I to think about it,
&nbspBut it is good to feel you there.

Love, in my sleep I dreamed of waking,—
&nbspWhite and awful the moonlight reached
Over the floor, and somewhere, somewhere,
&nbspThere was a shutter loose,—it screeched!

Swung in the wind,—and no wind blowing!—
&nbspI was afraid, and turned to you,
Put out my hand to you for comfort,—
&nbspAnd you were gone! Cold, cold as dew,

Under my hand the moonlight lay!
&nbspLove, if you laugh I shall not care,
But if I weep it will not matter,—
&nbspAh, it is good to feel you there!