Her sweet Weight on my Heart a Night

Her sweet Weight on my Heart a Night

Had scarcely deigned to lie—

When, stirring, for Belief’s delight,

My Bride had slipped away—

If ’twas a Dream—made solid—just

The Heaven to confirm—

Or if Myself were dreamed of Her—

The power to presume—

With Him remain—who unto Me—

Gave—even as to All—

A Fiction superseding Faith—

By so much—as ’twas real—