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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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would , if custom had not made us callous , and enabled us to look each other in the face instead of out of countenance , at the consciousness of our practical contradictions to our unpractised professions . An Old Woman .
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788 Dreams .
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DREAMS .
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Shadows—with no reality , but pain ; Or fancied joys that turn to waking woe : Ye midnight despots of the oppressed brain , Whence and what are ye ? Whither do ye flow ? Are ye the spirits of our former selves , Flitting from buried worlds , to gaze on this ? Bearing from chaos withering memories , Of by-gone grief , and love , and hope , and bliss ,
Gather'd in misty shrouds from past life ' s drear abyss 2 What is the infant's dream ? why should there steal A tear into that sinless creature ' s eye ? What worlds of wordless anguish may it feel ! How old a soul , in that young frame may lie !
Primeval thoughts may wring that sleeping child , Loves of another sphere , joys left behind ; Heart-stirring visions , mingled strong and wild , All that throuerh life can blierht or iov mankind . All that through life can blight or joy mankind
, May haunt its slumb ' ring soul , but not its waking mind . Sweet dreams are hopes asleep ; our hopes may die ; Yet hopeless wretches dream ; nor dreaming weep ; Grief has glad visions ; waking lethargy
Is mated with strange energy in sleep . The murderer may be guileless in his dreams , The unstain'd soul will , in its visions , slay . Are these but mockeries ? Or , revealing gleams Of scenes , times , souls , worlds , long since pass ' cl away
Ere chaos caught , or nature render'd back , our clay . Mem ' ry seems lull'd to twilight , while the soul Sails upon fancy ' s unknown sea , at night ; Yet ' mid the boundless space of wave and shoal Glimmers there forth a guiding beacon light ,
When gleaming thro * veil'd time we see some face , On which the memory lingers as a spell ; Who , where , or what , we know not ; yet some trace Is there , on which ' tis dear to us to dwell ; Haply , in ages gone , of one we lov'd too well .
Do sightless creatures in their slumbers see ? Does sleep give sound unto the deafen'd ear ? A rainbow in the dark man ' s dreams may be , And midnight teach the soundleBS child to hear .
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Nov. 2, 1833, page 788, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2626/page/56/
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