Posted by Admin on 17 May 2006, 12:00 am
Dream on, fair maid –
and let your dreams admit,
as symbol of your heart’s
desire, a phantom of
the rose you wore between
your breasts, but yestereve,
when dancing at the ball.
Sleep on, fair maid –
for dreams alone can give
that ecstasy, that brief
sweet joy of innocence
in love.
Perfection, shorter-lived
than any rose, in sleep
its only consummation knows.
T. C. Hudson
© T. C. Hudson.
Village
Parish Council