THE DREAM OF POESY.--A FRAGMENT.

BY LEIGH CLIFFE,

_Author of "Parga," "Knights of Ritzberg," &c._

(_For the Mirror._)


I had a vision fair and bright,
And when I waken'd I was griev'd
To own 'twas but a dream of night,
And sigh'd to find my hopes deceivd.
But then o'er my fancy crept,
Those who hail'd me while I slept.
There were those; of olden time,
Milton, wond'rous, wild, sublime--
Chaucer, of the many tales;
Spenser, soft as summer gales,
With a mild and gracious mien
Leading on his "Faery Queene."
Shakspeare, child of fancy, stood
Smiling in a mirthful mood,
As tho' he that moment spied
The fairy folk by Bottom's side,
Or beheld by Herne's old oak,
Falstaff with his antler yoke.
Dryden, laurel-crown'd and hoary,
Proudly stood in all his glory;