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Take this kiss upon the brow

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow-

You are now 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?



By Edgar Allen Poe

For Kara