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- TOWARDS BREAK OF DAY
-
- WAS it the double of my dream
- The woman that by me lay
- Dreamed, or did we halve a dream
- Under the first cold gleam of day?
- I thought: "There is a waterfall
- Upon Ben Bulben side
- That all my childhood counted dear;
- Were I to travel far and wide
- I could not find a thing so dear.'
- My memories had magnified
- So many times childish delight.
- I would have touched it like a child
- But knew my finger could but have touched
- Cold stone and water. I grew wild.
- Even accusing Heaven because
- It had set down among its laws:
- Nothing that we love over-much
- Is ponderable to our touch.
- I dreamed towards break of day,
- The cold blown spray in my nostril.
- But she that beside me lay
- Had watched in bitterer sleep
- The marvellous stag of Arthur,
- That lofty white stag, leap
- From mountain steep to steep.
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