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 the 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?