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Poem by Thomas Cooper What Are Dreams? ARE dreams a portion of our active life? Are they the living movements of the soul, Which grows more wakeful while the body sleeps; And, unrepressed by drear reality, Its playful vigil keeps, or weaves its web Of self-entangling sorrow—picturing, In deeper shades or wilder ecstasies, The joys or troubles of our waking hours? Or, are we merely passive in our sleep? Do 'spiritual creatures' visit us, And hold more ready converse with the mind— Unshackled, whiles, by life corporeal— Forewarning it, by emblematic signs, Of coming grief or pleasure?— We but know, As yet, in part; but, when eternity Shall dawn—when the strange noose is loosed Which ties the soul to matter—we shall know As we are known. The freed inhabitant Of this our mortal tenement, shall then Its own mysterious secrets learn; and, skilled Its past experience to trace, 'twill live, In thought, its life terrestrial o'er again. Yea, then, shall spiritual essences Be our companions in celestial bliss, Or, sharers, with us, of sin's penalties. And, if to speak of past acquaintanceship Be ours, with spirits perverse, how terrible That converse! But, if angels blest shall pour Their sweet communications in our ear, And tell of pleasing whispers to the soul In far departed hours of earthly sleep— How rapturous, to hail eternally In heaven, that brotherhood of spirits pure, Our secret visitants of love on earth! Thomas Cooper Thomas Cooper's other poems: 1509 Views |
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