Take this kiss upon the forehead!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus a lot let me avow-
You aren’t incorrect, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
But if hope has flown away
In an evening, or in a day,
In a imaginative and prescient, or in none,
Is it due to this fact the much less gone?
All that we see or appear
Is however a dream inside a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I maintain inside my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! but how they creep
By means of my fingers to the deep,
Whereas I weep- whereas 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 appear
However a dream inside a dream?
By Edgar Allan Poe
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