Glamour-Land
Ah! dim, lost Glamour-land,
On whose confines I stand,
Longing for home that shall be home no more!
There stood my palace grand,
Where now, on either hand,
The fiery swords of seraphs guard the door.
There once I roamed to cull
Dear hopes more beautiful
Than siren thoughts that musing monks resist;
Nothing too far or fair
But its mirage was there
Pictured upon the valley's rosy mist.
There each sweet day I heard
Songs of a brooding bird
Telling of purest pleasure yet to be:
There, by the singing streams,
Faint forms of darling dreams
Loitered and lingered hand in hand with me.
Ah, dim, dear Fancy-land!
Thy welkin, rainbow-spanned,
The softened light of halcyon hours o'er past
Fading away, away,
All the expanse is gray--
As fades the moon on nights too fair to last.
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