Under the first cold gleam of day?
I dreamed towards break of day,
I could not find a thing so dear.
From mountain steep to steep.
Towards Break Of Day
It had set down among itslaws:
Dreamed, or did we halve a dream
Cold stone and water. I grew wild.
So many times childish delight.
The woman that by me lay
I thought: "There is a waterfall
But she that beside me lay
Upon Ben Bulben side
The marvellous stag of Arthur,
The cold blown spray in my nostril.
Even accusing Heaven because
Nothing that we love over-much
That lofty white stag, leap
Is ponderable to our touch.
Had watched in bitterer sleep
My memories had magnified
That all my childhood counted dear;
Were I to travel far and wide
But knew my finger could but have touched
I would have touched it like a child
WAS it the double of my dream
