Take this kiss upon the brow!
And in parting from you now,
Thus must 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 !
Oh, God ! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp !
Oh, God ! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave !
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream !