STEVENSON'S POEMS
But unto thee, when thee I meet,
My pulses thicken fast, As when the maddened lake grows black
And ruffles in the blast.
I DREAMED OF FOREST ALLEYS FAIR
i. I DREAMED of forest alleys fair
And fields of gray-flowered grass, Where by the yellow summer moon
My Jenny seemed to pass.
I dreamed the yellow summer moon,
Behind a cedar wood3 Lay white on fields of rippling grass
Where I and Jenny stood,
I dreamed—but fallen through my dream
In a rainy land I lie Where wan wet morning crowns the hills
Of grim reality.
n.
I am as one that keeps awake
All night in the month of June, That lies awake in bed to watch
The trees and great white moon.