Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.
William Allingham 182489A Dream
AllingWI
I went to the window to see the sight;
All the Dead that ever I knew
Going one by one and two by two.
Townsfellows all, from first to last;
Born in the moonlight of the lane,
Quench’d in the heavy shadow again.
At soldiers once—but now more staid;
Those were the strangest sight to me
Who were drown’d, I knew, in the awful sea.
Some that I lov’d, and gasp’d to speak to;
Some but a day in their churchyard bed;
Some that I had not known were dead.
Yet of them all there was one, one only,
Raised a head or look’d my way:
She linger’d a moment,—she might not stay.
Ah! Mother dear! might I only place
My head on thy breast, a moment to rest,
While thy hand on my tearful cheek were prest!
Across the moon-stream, from shade to shade,
Young and old, women and men;
Many long-forgot, but remember’d then.
A sound of tears the moment after;
And then a music so lofty and gay,
That every morning, day by day,
I strive to recall it if I may.