Dream-Pedlary by Thomas Lovell Beddoes
Dream-Pedlary If there were dreams to sell, 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 rang the bell, What would you buy? A cottage lone and still, With bowers nigh, Shadowy, my woes to still, Until I die. Such pearls 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. 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 should I? 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. 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 woo; Thus are all dreams made true, Ever to last!