Dreams

When twilight comes with shadows drear,

I dream of thee, of thee dear one;

and grows my soul so dark and sad as shadows drear,

They tell me not to grieve love, for thou wilt come,

But oh! I can not tell why I fear their words are false:

I dream of theee, I dream of thee, love!

And thou art near till I awake.

When I look back, when I look back on happier days,

my eyes are filled with tears;

I see thee then in visions plain, so true, so full of love.

But now I fear to ask them if thou art 'live;

They tell me not to grieve love!

For thou wilt come at last:

I dream of thee, I dream of thee, love!

And thou art near till I awake.