Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow -
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?

    All that we see or seem
    Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of golden sand -

How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep - while I weep!

  O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?

  O God! can I not save
one from the pitiless wave?

    Is all that we see or seem
    But a dream within a dream?

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