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What would you buy? Some cost a passing bell; Some a light sigh, That shakes from Life’s fresh crown Only a rose-leaf down. If there were dreams to sell, Merry and sad to tell, And the crier rung the bell, What would you buy? II. A cottage lone and still, With bowers nigh, Shadowy, my woes to still, Until I die. Such pearl from Life’s fresh crown Fain would I shake me down. Were dreams to have at will, This would best heal my ill, This would I buy. III. But there were dreams to sell, Ill didst thou buy; Life is a dream, they tell, Waking, to die. Dreaming a dream to prize, Is wishing ghosts to rise; And, if I had the spell To call the buried well, Which one would I? IV. If there are ghosts to raise, What shall I call, Out of hell’s murky haze, Heaven’s blue pall? Raise my loved long-lost boy To lead me to his joy.— There are no ghosts to raise; Out of death lead no ways; Vain is the call. V. Know’st thou not ghosts to sue? No love thou hast. Else lie, as I will do, And breathe thy last. So out of Life’s fresh crown Fall like a rose leaf down. Thus are the ghosts to wooe; Thus are all dreams made true, Ever to last! Back Home |